


When two worlds collide

by Jojo1112



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Before The Storm, F/M, Opposites Attract, Rare Pairings, Tides of Vengeance, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 116,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojo1112/pseuds/Jojo1112
Summary: An intimate play of two completely different personalities clashing: the Warchief of the Horde and the Leader of the Alliance meet after the Siege of Lordaeron. A battle of words or a banter? Many issues are still outstanding.Based on the cinematic trailer of 'Battle for Azeroth'. Following slightly the events of BfA now.





	1. clashing

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N**  
> 
> After watching this epic cinematic trailer Battle for Azeroth on Christmas by accident (my nephew LOL) - I fell hard. And I don't even play WoW!  
> But the mutual smirks of Sylvanas Windrunner and Anduin Wrynn got me and didn't leave me alone. I had to write about this rare pairing. This was planned as a one-shot, an intimate play, but I'll continue.
> 
> I have to thank Wowhead and gamepedia, a treasure for a lot of quotes and descriptions to stick true to the characters.  
> And  _Grand_Phoenix_ , who's the most objective expert concerning the Warchief of the Horde I could find. I took the liberty of quoting the title of her story **"a flame that refuses to be extinguished"** in my work. I highly recommend reading it!  
>  Also  _Windcage_ , who was help, motivation and reviewer all at once. Thank you!
> 
> Lok'tar ogar! For the Alliance! (And for Lizzy who fights a battle as well.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own or make any money from World of Warcraft/Blizzard.

**WHEN TWO WORLDS COLLIDE**

The door of the cell rattled, and the Warchief of the Horde looked up. Put in chains, she was given enough room to move around. However, she stayed in her corner because the person entering wasn't worth the trouble to stand up for.

“Lady Sylvanas Windrunner.”

The clear and bright voice – almost childlike – suited the High King of the Alliance who must've been approximately eighteen years now. It contributed to his young appearance as well.

Yet, a close and sharp look showed Sylvanas a pale face. Eye rims, bruises and cuts. The wild blonde hair held back in a braid. A simply dressed young man, wearing only trousers and a tunic. No weapons.

A bit different from the person she had seen on the battlefield with a shiny, golden-plated armor, his father's sword in the hand and the ridiculous big lion helmet. And in the Throne Room of Lordaeron.

She didn't even nod to acknowledge his presence. What did _he_ want from her, here? To threaten her again? To have a cozy chat? 

The Leader of the Alliance ordered the guards to unchain her and leave them alone, which they did after a slight hesitation. Apparently, they didn't endorse their kings' behaviour.

He really doesn't think I'm at his mercy while nobody's watching, Sylvanas thought disdainfully. You'll be surprised, boy. Your guards should've better stayed. She rested where she was, at least without chains now.

But to her utter astonishment, he just took a chair and sat down, opposite to the bench she was hunched up. They were at eye level now. Piercing red ones met tired blue ones, interestingly a symbol of each faction's color.

Sylvanas remained silent, though. Not quite knowing what to expect. Watching him watching her.

“Enjoying your stay?” He finally asked.

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned her head back. “I had it worse.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You might be interested to hear that...” Anduin started but was cut off immediately by Sylvanas' sneering voice.

“Ours is a cycle of hatred. Alliances forged and broken. So let's get this over with, _boy-king_.”

She put all her contempt in the last words, Anduin noticed it well. He needed a moment to collect himself, a bit reminded of the sudden violent outbursts of his father. What had he expected, coming down here? He knew Lady Windrunner was anything but reasonable beforehand, but meeting her in person he had hoped they would come to an agreement. Maybe she understood the direct approach better.

“It's not too late to end this war. I came bearing an offer to...”

“Talk about peace?” Sylvanas interrupted him, again. “The Horde wants nothing to do with the Alliance's sissy. We will slaughter _anyone_ who stands in our way.”

“I...” he wavered a bit but found back, “...will you hear me out?”

Sylvanas looked back at him. Her mouth twitched. How far could she provoke him? “What for? You and your petty followers will lose. The Horde will be victorious.”

Anduin inhaled deeply. “I am well aware of defects on _each_ faction's side but...”

“Defects?” Sylvanas escaped a snort of incredulity. Then, she suddenly scooted forward, right into his face. "Let me deliver a message to your puppy and allies, boy: the Horde will never give in.”

Anduin didn't flinch back. Instead, he remained only a small inch away from her face and the piercing red eyes. This was wrestling with oppositions, indeed. Calmly, he replied: “Are you now done with talking in platitudes so we can  _talk_ like true leaders of our factions?”

Sylvanas almost smirked at his remark. Look, the boy can react after all, she thought. And being so close to him, she couldn't help but notice how young he was.

She leaned back. “As I said before, you can go and leave, boy-king. The Forsaken will never stop fighting. Lordaeron belongs to us.”

Anduin was almost giving up on having a normal conversation with her. “You know very well what happened in Lordaeron.”

She rolled her eyes. “That's why I'm telling you to get lost, Alliance prankster.”

He was offended again. Did she always act like this? He wondered briefly how the other Horde Leaders dealt with her as Warchief. Maybe she acted differently, then.

Extreme fatigue crept over him and he couldn't hinder himself to rub his eyes. After this exhausting day, all he wanted was to sleep, so what had driven him down here? Was he still convinced that enemies could speak one language, like Thrall had quoted a few times?

The Dark Lady eyed him, somehow amused by his tiredness. It was obvious that the young boy belonged in bed. Benefit for being undead, she thought.

“Hadn't enough hours of beauty sleep?” Making fun of him once more, her former abrasive tone was a little tempered, though.

Anduin stopped and lifted his head, surprised by the change of her tone.

“No, I...,” he realized too late that he was teased again, “...just tired, that's all.”

“Your first battle?”

His surprise deepened, clearly shown on his face. What was the meaning of this break in her course now? He hesitated first but decided to answer her. “Not the first one I attended but the first one I was upfront.”

Didn't know that I'm able to make conversation, Sylvanas thought, still somehow entertained. She continued.

"Congratulations on your first _victory_ , then.”

In anticipation of his reaction to her good wishes, she tried to sound as cynical as she could knowing she would hit home, sort of angel of peace he was, obviously.

Anduin shook his head. Her choice of words told him she was very well aware that he didn't like to be congratulated on a victory that was in fact none. In the face of a possibly imminent threatening disaster of their world, Azeroth, this faction war was nothing _he_ was proud of. He himself wanted to have peace, not to go into battles. It was time to put differences aside and to remind her of why he came down here again.

"Isn't there anything _we_ could try to come to terms, Lady Windrunner?” He resumed his proceeding.

“Let's see.”

He's too stubborn for his own good, Sylvanas thought, _like the flame that refuses to be extinguished*_. Her reply was brusque. “There's no offer available to make me accept _your_ terms of peace.”

“I'm not talking about peace, but about a _truce_ , Warchief of the Horde.”

Anduin shot back, getting a bit angry about her refusal to deal with him.

“A truce?”

Sylvanas leaned forward. Her pale brows drew together in an intimidating frown.

“Which allows you to strike again whenever _you_ please?”

He repelled her attack. “The Alliance will stick to _my_ word, Lady Windrunner.”

“You believe that, don't you.”

“Why are you doubting my word?”

“Because you're a fool and someone ought to teach you a little military strategy.”

That was the limit! Anduin leaned forward, too.

“You try my patience. I think I just proved that I'm no fool.”

“By healing your whole precious army?”

Sylvanas sneered, hiding well that she had been quite impressed by his move on the battlefield.

“Aren't  _you_ the one who ended down here?”

Anduin couldn't stop himself from doing a small dismissive gesture towards her surroundings to underline his words, although he had never wanted to display such a behavior in front of a prisoner. But then, he had never been provoked like this before. He took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on himself.

“Could we return to the topic at hand?”

“There's no topic we could possibly agree on, young king. How often do I have to repeat myself?”

Sylvana's cutting words made Anduin abandon his reserve and retort.

“Are _you_ certain we can't agree on wanting the best for our factions? Why waste your warriors and resources in battle when a few words will bring you greater profit? A truce would give time to heal wounds and rest, even a withdrawal from the battlefield. _We_ don't have to keep fighting. Don't you see?"

She fell silent upon hearing his offensive words. Yet, the red piercing eyes were still glowing and her long brows moving. Did this mean he had finally succeeded in making her listen and go over the situation?

But her next biting remark crushed all of his hopes. “The Alliance must be at the end of its resources if you were to come up with such a thing. - This _is_ war, after all.”

Anduin stared at her, not wanting to believe the words of the Banshee Queen. Was there no way to convince her otherwise? Disappointment shot through him like a well targeted arrow. Was he laying too much honor on her in appealing to her conscience or was it the other way round, that there was no honor and conscience at all?

“I have always heard that the Horde was honorable.” The young king concluded, quietly. Tiredness overwhelmed him again. He was at the end of his wits, so what was he to do? A part of him still refused to give in.

There was silence.

Sylvanas understood Anduin's thoughts very well; it was written plainly on his face. Yet, it astonished her that he wondered whether he was mistaken about her – which meant he gave her much more credit for than she really deserved. Lesson learned not to underestimate your enemy, she thought, but then, his continued expression of wondering started to stir something in her.

“Didn't _anybody_ ever tell you in the past you won't get far with being stubborn?”

Unexpectedly, her sarcastic comment forced him to smile a bit. “You'd be surprised to hear.”

A joke? Did this young boy possess _some_ sense of humor, at last?

Sylvanas leaned forward a bit more. “Tell me.”

Anduin sighed, noting for the first time a peak of interest from the Warchief of the Horde.

“Too many people in my life, I'm telling you.”

He admitted with disarming openness, almost grinning. Only to add boldly at the same time: “Much like you are called 'bitchy'?”

" _Bitchy?_ "

Sylvanas rolled her eyes, but had to smirk _against_ her will. It wasn't that a part of her felt spoken to be called like that. Deep down, she knew, she had done a bit to deserve this catchy phrase. Yet, she hadn't expected such a phrase from the young king.

“Is  _this_ coming from puppy Greymane or your father?”

Anduin looked away for a moment, feeling a pang of loss. Of course, she had to mention his father whom he had already missed the whole day. Asking himself incessantly _if_ he was doing 'what a king must do'.

And of course, his reaction didn't escape _her_ notice.

“Ah, did I touch a weak spot? Who would've guessed. Having daddy issues?”

Woah. He had heard of her sassy and belligerent nature but wasn't expecting it here. Anduin didn't bother to hide his hurt and decided to return blow for blow.

“Aren't _you_ having sister issues?” Was all he responded, risking a direct look at her.

Sylvanas, unprepared for such a quip showed a short shadow of sadness – which Anduin saw - then anger crept quickly over her face.

“That's none of your business, boy-king.”

Of course. As if _she_ had every right to tease him constantly, but _he_ had to behave. Well, he was drilled in better manners, so he passed her comment. Sighing, he brushed his hair behind his ears.

“Lady Windrunner.” He paused a moment.

“Someone's eager to go back to his beauty sleep.” Sylvanas commented dryly in realizing that he was just about to leave.

“Someone waiting for you?” She held out.

It started to bother Anduin that he seemingly was nothing more than a joke for her in this conversation. He definitely wasn't used to being permanently mocked.

Before he knew it, he replied irritated: “No.”

A short derisive laugh was his answer and Anduin understood she had meant it rhetorically. Despite calling himself inwardly a fool, her following question threw him off guard.

“Wasn't your early  _proposal_ aimed to come to terms?”

Confusion followed, Anduin could not help but stare in disbelief. Did she seriously speak of 'proposal' in the way he meant it? The way it was intended to be? By all means, he was too tired for another exchange of blows.

“Was it?” Was all he responded, somehow not certain but trying to get the meaning.

Sylvanas smirked. Teasing the young king varied refreshingly from the usual Horde politics and wasn't boring at all. Drawing the young boy out of his formality and control felt like a challenge for her... and that was something she hadn't had in a long time. It looked like there was something to him, after all. Perhaps she could use his constant offer of talk to _her_ advantage...

“You were very eager to plead for ceasefire – are you up to discuss _what_ you are willing to do for saving your precious Alliance?”

Anduin just looked at her. There. It was back. That smirk of hers which told him she was up to something. But his curiosity was piqued. He slowly understood that in order to get a concession from someone such as her, he had to change his tactics. Was it worth another try? He felt compelled – almost pushed – to get another chance to convince her of what he thought was the right thing to do. However, in playing along, he wanted to know what this was really about.

“Stormwind will endure, besides, what exactly are we talking about here, Lady Windrunner?"

“You mean what is at stake?”

She rested where she was, eyeing him. “All I'm asking the young king is what he's prepared to offer _me_.”

"Offer you?”

Anduin was perplexed, still guessing _which_ direction they were heading. “The Alliance won through, and yet you dare ask me to make an offer?”

Her smug answer came right away. “No risk, no fun?”

Anduin shook his head, doubting whether he should take her seriously, but Sylvanas wasn't done with following up the matter, taking delight in Anduin's confusion.

“So... what kind of a commitment to me might the _young king_ have in mind?”

Was _she_ flirting with him or was he completely mistaken?

“None. And this is not going anywhere if you are talking in riddles.”

“Let's state my business.”

Sylvanas stood up and came closer. Now she stood in front of his chair, bowing forward and laying both hands on the back of his chair so he was trapped between her arms. Those red eyes were smoldering down on him. Anduin had to swallow, feeling almost a little intimidated. A tension - induced by the sudden closeness - was palpable that hadn't been there before. Had _he_ underestimated her? Had _he_ made a mistake in freeing her from the chains?

Her voice changed to an alluring tone he hadn't known she possessed.

“Dear King, if I were to leave Lordaeron _in your hands_ , which part of _you_ would you allow to be on _my hands_?”

Anduin stared speechless at her. Was this a bad joke? His look must've spoken for himself because the corner of her mouth went up.

“I'm not a monster. I won't make you an _undead_. Besides...”

She left the rest open and glanced invitingly at him, amusing herself with his response and thinking about how she could provoke another reaction.

Amazed to no end, Anduin realized that her magic started working on him. He held his breath when she eyed him up and down in a way... he couldn't describe other than a predator would watch a prey?

Attack is the best form of defense, Anduin thought and jumped up, forcing Sylvanas to move back a bit. Yet, she remained within his grasp and that flustered him. He wasn't used to such _physical and personal_ closeness. It struck him for the first time that, with the way the dark eyelashes and long elegant eyebrows accentuated the intense red eyes and the pale, porcelain-like face, the Warchief of the Horde was nothing short of 'hauntingly beautiful'. Not to mention the well curved lips. There was something about her he couldn't explain. Which appealed to his fascination?

“Lady Windrunner.” He inhaled deeply. “ _This_ will get us nowhere.”

He made an effort to move, but she still got in his way.

“Heed my call.”

Anduin turned his head towards her, simply watching her with raised eyebrows. The tension wasn't gone. On the contrary, it intensified the way she looked back at him.

“I have taken note that the messenger on behalf of his king is the king himself. To see me?”

Still teasing him with that alluring voice made Anduin weigh his answer. It gradually dawned on him that she was playing a cat-and-mouse-game. Be careful, he thought. This is no playground where you know the ropes.

In fact, all Sylvanas had wanted to do was to toy with the young king but even _she_ couldn't deny the sudden tension that was there between them that had risen from them being so close. How long had it been that she allowed _someone_ to get this close to her? She was quite certain there was more beneath the formal behavior of the young king. What she had observed in the previous battle was that the young man wasn't to be underestimated at all. Hell, she had really to admit that his massive dome of light to heal on the battlefield had left a lasting impression. He had shown a tendency to challenge her, not only by copying her rallying cry 'For the Horde' and putting it on the same level with his call 'For the Alliance' but also with that _smirk_ at the end.

Sylvanas' mouth twitched while she leaned forward to him and whispered in his ear: “What other sort of plans could you possibly have when you had me unchained?”

The way she breathed her question sent a shiver down Anduin's spine and made him shake a little. The innuendo was more than obvious now. There were only two questions: was she to be trusted? Would he like to follow to observe to which length she would go to do whatever she wanted? He was torn apart.

“Lady Windrunner...”

Her twitch turned into a hint of a sassy grin when she watched his hesitation.

“Did you think I would not notice the way you look at me? Come forward and you will be rewarded...”

Yes, no doubt about it. Anduin closed his eyes, not being able to move an inch, electrified from head to toe. But that was the whole point. When he was thinking straight her last remark indicated she knew very well how to play him. Which left the only conclusion that she did it on purpose to get him into trouble. There was no other way to interpret her approach, wasn't there?

Anduin came rapidly to his senses and thus prevailed over his crazy desire to get into a game with his tempting opponent. Opening his eyes and looking straight towards her, his voice turned cold and the tension was gone in an instant.

“So you could do what, Lady Windrunner? - Spread word that I abused my authority over a prisoner? Even make it look like a sexual assault? You try my patience again.”

Sylvanas stepped back. Gone were her sassy behavior and her dangerous allure by his accusations when she straightened up to her full height. The red eyes glowed.

Anduin wondered if that had been her plan all along or if he had assessed the situation completely wrong. _He_ had come down to negotiate with her. Where did it end? This situation was such a mess. He had never thought her to be as ruthless as it was told, but he seemed to be incorrect. Did she really think so _little_ of him?

Sylvanas had sensed a bit of all the mixed emotions her young counterpart went through. It made her react. It wasn't that she just had him where she had wanted him, seconds ago. However, she had missed the right moment for action, for getting him into a situation where the outcome was ambiguous. Deliberately? Upset with herself, how she had stumbled upon her own game, she turned around and snapped an angry reply at him before she realized what she'd just said.

“I've thought about how it would've made my plans easier, but decided against.”

Was it his obvious mistrust that had made her speak openly? Somehow, his accusation had triggered something in her. That even _he_ – the only person Sylvanas knew to think in fair and honorable terms - would assume first and foremost the worst of her... would she be judged her entire life? Wasn't Anduin Wrynn the one who should give her the benefit of a doubt? But he did not. And this was clearly Greymane's doing! She gritted her teeth.

Anduin's only reaction was to shake his head. Had she really admitted the truth, she, the master of cover up?

“So what else has the Warchief of the Horde _planned_ for the Alliance?”

Silence followed.

He knew he wouldn't get an answer and he was confused and annoyed at himself. Enough of the games that she played with him. Or didn't play. What was he thinking? He had offered her ceasefire and would have liked to let her go, yet all she offered him back was ridicule and mockery, taking nothing seriously. Had Genn been right... concerning her? Good thing he didn't know that Anduin himself was here. There was no point in staying any longer because she wasn't really interested in _any_ offer he made.

Sylvanas, having not answered yet, found herself struggling.

Hadn't it been her wish all along, from the first moment on the High King of the Alliance entered her cell to make him immediately leave of his own accord, although the Horde had lost the battle for Undercity? She would've triumphed about him – but that was _before_ this whole verbal exchange. Now, it felt different... as the Warchief of the Horde, did she owe him at least an explanation as to why they couldn't come to terms? Sylvanas caught herself wanting to persuade him of her true intentions, confronted with such honesty and strong beliefs, with the stubborn will to make it right – even she couldn't turn a blind eye to how hard _he tried_.

“We will bring the Alliance to its knees. Our true work is just beginning.”

A pause followed.

She was back to talking in platitudes? He'd thought they had gotten to the point where some truth came to pass. Was he wrong?

After a long moment, Anduin decided to question her again. ”Tell me why you will _not_ reconsider my offer. What have _I_ done to offend you besides being the son of my father? Or is it because I stand for the Alliance and all you despise?"

There were so many things that had gone wrong between the Horde and the Alliance. So many things done against _her_  Forsaken, Sylvanas thought.

Yet, they both stood here – the Leader of the Alliance and the Warchief of the Horde, this time without their entourage. Was this the reason why the King of Stormwind came to her all by himself?

“Tell me. Why won't you listen to my offer of a truce?” Anduin insisted.

“Because the Horde should _never_ trust the Alliance.”

“You think I'm the one who's not to be trusted here?”

Trust. Such a general topic, yet one Sylvanas was vulnerable to so she tried to smooth over the sensitive moment quickly.

“I don't care. Overall, you're all to blame. _You_ question our place in this world. - I only want to secure my faction's survival. And you're standing in my way.”

Anduin stepped closer, his eyebrows raised once more, surprised about his own courage.

“I am. How _unfortunate_ for you, really.”

Sylvanas stepped closer, too.

“Did the _boy-king_ find back to his humor, at last?”

"Cutting words from the Warchief who was once a glorious figure, I dare say.”

“I am still a glorious figure. I was at least made Warchief. You, on the other hand? Not promoted by your actions, simply by your heritage, boy-king. Not worthy of your father's legacy so far.”

She really had a talent of making him furious.

“Leave my father out of this.”

“Having daddy-issues again? You should work on overcoming them, otherwise you will be reunited with your father soon – in the afterlife.”

“Threatening a king although you're the one who ended in a cell?”

“Am I threatening a _king_? More a _boy-king_ to me.”

“Stop treating me as a boy.”

“I see no reason to do so.”

Anduin tried to control his growing temper. Why had there always to be a fight with her? Why couldn't she partake in his perspective of things? Why?

Sylvanas could see it, the emotions in Anduin simmering. Maybe she succeeded in the end, loosening him up?

There was silence first, when his next words were spoken bleakly with a hint of... regret?

“I see no reason to _deal_ with you any longer, Warchief of the Horde, if you won't even listen to my options.”

He turned away from her. Hurt, sadness and bitterness tried to overwhelm him and he didn't know whether it was about her not accepting him when all he wanted was to be acknowledged by her - a freaking Banshee queen, he told himself but it couldn't be helped – or about her showing no sign of comprehension or compassion at all. If he wasn't able to convince her, then so be it... in the end. Anduin was giving up. Besides, his extreme tiredness took slowly its toll. Standing on his feet was already a torture. Arguing with her all the more. The taste of his whirling emotions made him almost choke.

Sylvana's next harsh words, however, cut him off.

“At long last, the ceaseless posturing between the Horde and the Alliance is coming to an end. You really wish to weigh your options, despite this being a time of action?”

If not this question, then nothing else would've explained better what Lady Windrunner was thinking about this faction war. Should he answer her?

Anduin fought to find his voice back. “Only one of us... wanted this war.”

“I am not to be an outcast in my own land.”

After a moment, Anduin turned back to her, not wanting to leave that sort of comment unchallenged.

“I know that sometimes we must fight for what we believe in, Lady Windrunner, but _I_ would've never stood in front of the gates of Lordaeron and waged war if the actions of _your_ Horde hadn't forced me into it.”

Her voice was sneering again. "Yes, what else were you to do besides striking back?”

He frowned. “Then what else, as a leader, was I expected to do other than defend my people? Stand up for my people? Even _you_ would do it. Isn't your history full of such examples, you who were once the Ranger-General of Silvermoon? Don't think I'm clueless.”

“I said before that you're a fool. Your father should've taught you a little military strategy.” Sylvanas retaliated, not liking to be remembered of her past at all.

Anduin tilted his head and tried to maintain an iron grip on his kindling fury, ignoring her cruel and mocking answer. “What are you living for, Lady Windrunner? Is it war? Nothing else but war? What about your faction, your Forsaken and your family?”

“I haven't lost any love for my homeland or its people, as you know. I've fought tooth and nail for Silvermoon to be allowed a place beside Undercity and Orgrimmar at the negotiating table.”

“Well. We both know that Undercity lies in ruins now and is in its current state not defensible. _You_ took care of it.”

His remark made Sylvanas' glowing eyes pierce right through him. “You came to destroy us, showing no mercy! - You won't own my city!”

Anduin shook his head, becoming dangerously quiet. “I came to make you answer for the actions of your Horde. By the Light, I came for you. I thought in capturing you there is a way to end this war. - But I was mistaken.”

There was a dead silence, both of them scrutinizing each other.

Anduin on the one hand could not help but ponder his earlier fascination for her. The Banshee Queen was a woman of war in her dark ruby-colored leather armor with the pale blue skin underneath, emphasizing with every part that she belonged nowhere else than on a battlefield. Had he been blind?

Sylvanas on the other hand noticed once more how young he was, watching him closely. The bright blue eyes were focusing on her, a mirror of his vivid emotions in an otherwise contained body language. Not once had he crossed a line although she herself had done everything to aim for breaking his reserve. She had heard of his nickname 'Manduin' somewhere along the Horde gossip, yet for her he was still on the threshold of growing up. It was not as if she cared but she thought it to be her duty to make him understand and to teach him another lesson.

“There will be a new future for the Horde. - It's pretty clear that it wouldn't take long after this last forced peace attempt connected to the Legion's defeat for us to be at each other's throats again...”

She stepped forward. Closer to him. She couldn't resist it. And the tension was palpable once more. “For me being at _your_ throat again.”

Anduin just eyed her. For the first time, he was pretty sure, he understood her kind of dark humor. Her way of provoking him. And the best way to react was to do the exact opposite. He imagined joking back that he may have liked having her at his throat at other times, but he suppressed it. In no way... was he flirting back? Instead he decided to give her an appropriate answer – may she deserve it or not.

“Believe it or not, I would've let you go... in case you'd surrendered.”

Her incredulous stare was his answer. Red eyes going right through him. Had he made her speechless in the end?

“You would've let me go?” Sylvanas had a hard time to digest that he'd actually wanted to let her go, not doubting his honesty for a moment.

Anduin simply nodded.

“Why?”

“Why would I not?” Anduin replied, slowly. - The sudden opportunity to finally tease her back was indispensable. "You know I'm king now, right?”

She shook her head but remained silent.

Amazingly, they had suddenly gotten to the point which Anduin had aimed for the whole time and had the possibility to speak out loud at present.

“What if... I were to _trust_ you?”

He made a significant pause.

“ _I_ would have taken your word of honor. After all, I've always heard that the Horde is not without honor. _You_ , Lady Windrunner, included.”

He tried to emphasize his next words, too. “Although I know this could very well be a lost cause. And I am losing anyway in the end.”

Sylvanas kept silent while her long brows were moving, indicating she was thinking. His willingness to trust in her when all the others more often did not stirred something in her. Was he to trust one who was his enemy? She, who others had made responsible for his father's death even though it had not been her hand to strike the blow? She, who had just told him to expect nothing from her? His last remark implied that he viewed the Horde as a whole loyal bunch – it wasn't right now, but that was another story – and that amazed her to no end. Yet, she had to disappoint him. She wasn't here for a cozy chat.

“A friendly warning, you have no idea what you're up against, boy-king. We've only just begun!”

Back to boy-king. Anduin didn't know whether he should grit his teeth or just laugh her off. But dead tired as he was, it was time to go. Maybe – maybe he would have a new opportunity tomorrow.

“Let's agree to disagree.” Anduin finally answered, and not wanting to allow her to get away with saying something like an admonition as the final part of two worlds colliding, he bowed.

“Goodnight, Lady Windrunner.” Were his parting words when he called for the guards and left the cell, the door of the cell rattling again.

“Goodnight." Was all she offered as he left. Yet, it was something when he recollected he hadn't even been greeted by her in the beginning.


	2. questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter would've never been written or published without the help and encouragement of _Windcage_. Seriously, you're the best and I owe you so much! A heartfelt thanks.
> 
> Another thank you, _Grand_Phoenix_ , for your help. I'm still working on that dialogue thing you mentioned. LOL

 

Anduin was so tired he didn't notice the two Stormwind Guards who started escorting him, left and right, while he walked back from the Stockades to Stormwind Keep, taking his time. Usually he went via Cathedral Square, but this time he chose the way through the Trade District and Old Town. It started to get real foggy and moist. Upon arriving at the castle he was asked by the servants if he were hungry but he denied. All he wanted was to go to bed and sleep. He was looking forward to the quiet of his quarters, although a part of him regretted that Wyll Benton wasn't there anymore. The elderly servant would've understood immediately the trouble Anduin took upon himself to make peace on Azeroth happen. Well, Wyll Benton already rested in peace.

He sighed.

It stood to question _if_ he were able to sleep, though, the time he had spent with the Warchief of the Horde in her cell bearing in mind. Her remarks. Her mocking, too. And that he still had no clue what this conversation had been really about, besides him wanting to win her trust _again_ , he added in his thoughts, because he was taught a hard lesson the first time he tried, not that long ago at the Arathi Highlands – and to aim for ceasefire which was his first and foremost priority. Sometimes it had almost felt like a flirt, sometimes like the fight they hadn't fought – and should have? - on the battlefield _before_. Yet, Anduin wasn't kidding himself. Having the strong wish of not killing her, he would've lost the real fight a thousand times. If he didn't want to burn her with his Holy Light – which she wouldn't survive, possibly – there was no chance for him to win a duel with her. His sword skills and tactics were less than average, having never ever developed a talent for being a fierce warrior like his father and without using the Light there was simply no possibility for him to defeat a military veteran like her. Brushing his hair back, he sighed once more. So what else was he to do than opting for the chance of gaining... trust? Because at the end of the day, that was what really mattered. Anduin had seen what 'not trusting enough' could do. With his own eyes.

He wasn't even sure if he were to win another battle of words with her that they had just shared, recapitulating her many affronts. If he were honest to himself, he was left with more questions in the end. Why had he not gotten through to her? Why had she not jumped at his offer for a truce?

Anduin was in such deep thoughts that he didn't even notice Genn Greymane who had waited in the antechamber to his quarters, sitting by the fireplace with a drink in his hands, as he slowly stood up.

Only the well-known deep voice tore him from his musings about a 'hauntingly beautiful' Banshee Queen and his current confusion.

“My king.”

Anduin stopped dead in his tracks, having already undressed his white-blue tunic and his leather boots, and turned around.

“Genn?” He echoed. “What are you doing here? It's past midnight.”

The elderly man dropped the drink he had sipped from and stepped close to Anduin.

“I've waited for you.” The baritone voice changed from a warm welcome to a more demanding tone. “Where have you been?”

_This_ was no question Anduin wanted to respond to. “I needed some time.”

Genn nodded, but his eyes followed the young king who padded barefoot across the floor in direction of his bathroom. “Isn't an hour a bit too long not to inform the Royal Guards of where you've been gone to?”

"I didn't know you kept track of my goings.” Anduin remarked lightly but couldn't hinder himself from struggling a bit inside concerning the elder Worgen's overprotectiveness. Yes, the times were dangerous but that didn't mean he had to be followed everywhere. He could take care of himself. And _he_ was the king.

Looking in the mirror while he turned on the faucet, he saw his eye-rims and the worries that were etched into his face and refused to leave him these days. He knew Genn meant well which made him add: “You know, if you had asked me I could've told you not to wait for me.”

Outside the bathroom, the one spoken to shook his head but remained silent, waiting for the young man to return.

“I'm old enough now to take care of myself, Genn. - Please stop worrying.” Anduin continued softly when he came back to the antechamber, the cold water making him feel refreshed.

“Anduin. - I thought you might be in need of companionship.” Genn explained and sighed. “I mean, after that exhausting battle.”

He looked at the tired young man. “I can see the marks the previous events already left on you.”

Was it that obvious? Well, Genn knew him long enough. Anduin shook his head and placed shortly his hand on the elder man's shoulder, a small smile on his lips, reminded of how often Genn was on his side when needed. The human touch felt good. It was in a way a comfort to have the warmth of a friendly presence to keep him company after hours of being pierced and judged by those glowing red eyes.  _Her_ eyes. And she did seem to see more than he wished to show. 

“Thank you for your concern. I just need some sleep, that's all.”

“Anduin. - It's not that I know which burdens you shoulder every day. Burdens, responsibilities and obligations you weren't ready for, being so young.”

Anduin sighed. How was he to take Genn's mind off his worries?

“The walk helped you clear your mind?” The elder man continued asking.

“It did, somehow.” Anduin murmured, trying not to be too specific.

“Tell me how it helped,” Genn however insisted, “I thought you were going to the Cathedral of Light for praying but I didn't find you there.” 

Anduin was hit with a pang of guilt. The obvious care of the elder man was shining through his words but Anduin didn't know how to handle it without having to bluntly lie which he didn't want to.

“It helped...” Anduin began, searching frantically for a general answer.

“Talk to me. - I'm here for you.” The Worgen said gently, keeping in mind how often he had battled with his son Liam instead of speaking to him. 

Anduin groaned inwardly. Why couldn't Genn let the matter rest? Determined, he replied: “I really appreciate your offer but... ”

The elder man sighed and interrupted him. “The truth is, Anduin, I've waited for you because  _I_ wanted to talk to you about something.”

Anduin stiffened. By the Light, all he wanted was to crawl into his bed and escape more awkward questions. But fate, it seemed, differed tonight. And Anduin was not one who refused to extend a helping hand when needed.

Genn looked him directly in the eyes and Anduin had to swallow. A sudden thought if the elder man had known all along where he had  _really_ spent the last hour shot through his head. With bated breath, he waited.

However, Genn started to pace restlessly up and down with his hands behind his back.

“Tell me what she said when you captured  _her_. Tell me which punishment will await her. Tell me... so I can have at least some satisfaction...”

The rest was lost in Genn's rumbling, but the young king knew immediately about  _whom_ he was talking. Relief - for Genn not knowing his secret yet - and dread – for knowing where this topic could lead - flooded him at the same time.

A longer pause followed before Anduin was able to give an answer. “Don't you think this is something we should discuss with  _all_ members of the Alliance?”

The question was lightly posed, nevertheless Anduin felt a heavy pull in the stomach. Of all potential people,  _Lady Windrunner_ was the one he had to speak about, now?

“A Council meeting? They will discuss and drag the matter for ages. We cannot sit idle while those Horde monsters build their forces, my king.”

Anduin was slowly becoming desperate. Given his present status, he would've taken every punishment gladly only to avoid a discussion with Genn right now. He wasn't only dead-tired, he was a bit shaken and confused as well.

“Genn...,” he began cautiously, “her fate isn't at the top of my priority list right now. We have to think about more urgent matters...”

“You could do me a favor and put her there, Anduin.” Genn's growling answer cut him off. “And I'm speaking here in _both_ of our interests.”

Anduin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. How could he distract Genn, so not willing to let this get out of hand? He tried the direct way. “Excuse me, Genn, but this conversation is better to be conducted tomorrow. I'm going to bed now. I wish you good night.”

Anduin granted him a small smile, the instant he walked up to Genn to again squeeze his shoulder, he was, however, immediately chastised by the elder man.

“I swear, my king, if you don't listen I can't guarantee...,” all the rage broke out of the human Worgen, “it is time for that Forsaken predator to become the prey! - And if you don't do it, I will!”

Anduin's smile was wiped off his face. His hand fell off the elder man's shoulder, painfully reminded of Lady Windrunner again, who had watched him like a predator studying her prey. No, he wasn't in the mood for discussing things in regards to  _her_ when Genn assailed him with his next question. 

“I want to know what you plan to do... about her.”

“What do you mean... what to do... about _her_?”

Genn rolled his eyes, clearly impatient. “Having the Warchief of the Horde imprisoned means that things will shift, Anduin. We may be closer to changes in favor of the Alliance than ever before.”

Anduin couldn't help but stare when Genn's voice heightened.

“This crazy bitch deserves to die, might she be the leader of the Horde or not. Didn't even _you_ tell me once that she is well and truly lost?”

Anduin swallowed, for a moment bewildered by this irreconcilable side of the Worgen. But then, Genn Greymane had lost his son. To  _her_ . Anduin remembered it all too well. - Yet, her fate wasn't to be decided in a private talk but between all members of the Alliance, Anduin thought in despair. How was it possible that he was suddenly made the advocate of the Warchief of the Horde? He groaned inwardly. Somehow a feeling that  _he_ might had to protect her from whatever wrath others – and Genn was certainly not the only one who harbored such feelings - nurtured was pushed to the forefront. 

_No_ , he hadn't given up hope. Anduins's voice became clear and cutting. “ _I_ will not allow it, Genn.”

He could see that Genn was baffled first, not expecting such a reaction from him, but then the Worgen's eyes narrowed.

“I pretend I didn't hear that, my king. Since when did _you_ become her protector? - She who is to be made responsible for _all_? Even to drag you into this war? And don't forget she had a hand on your father's death, too.”

Anduin closed his eyes for a moment. “We don't know that yet.”

Genn snorted. “Of course we do. And it fitted well in her plans.”

“We may _not_ , Genn.”

The elder man's gaze grew piercing. “ _You_ weren't there.”

Anduin stepped aside. Blaming Sylvanas of things proven to be her doing, yes, but not of things that were still unclear.

“You are right, I wasn't. - Yet, as it is, I firmly believe there's a peaceful way to end the conflict between the Alliance and the Horde by gaining the trust of the Warchief of the Horde...”

“We must gain her trust? Anduin, do you hear yourself talk?”

“Of course.”

“You've tried that once and it backfired. What makes you think it will be done this time when all she's up to is war and our extinction?”

“What about second chance policy?”

Genn's derisive laughter made Anduin clench his fists.

“You really don't know _her_ like your father and I do because otherwise you would show no mercy to her. Are you that desperate for peace that you would lower yourself to try to come to terms with that crazy queen, Anduin?”

Was it the mentioning of his father again that Anduin irritated to no end? Was it the implication that he didn't know what he was doing? His words were spoken before he could think about what else they included.

“Desperate? Lower myself? Is there more to this lecture? Because I might not know her like you do, but at least I was willing to when I talked to her.”

“Talked to her...?” Genn started, only to look closely at Anduin who blushed by realizing his faux pas. “Are you out of your mind?”

Anduin remained silent, churned up inside, not knowing what to answer for the moment.

Genn's voice wavered. “So that's where you had been, for the last hour, right?”

Furiously, he stepped towards the young king and grabbed him by the upper arms. “I knew it.”

Suddenly, Anduin found himself shaken frantically by the elder man.

“Answer me, Anduin. You really were with that crazy bitch?”

Anduin simply nodded. Torn apart between feeling bad for the Worgen who was like a second father to him and feeling disappointed that Genn so openly denied him the right to do 'what a king must do' – his father's words always ringing in his ears – and doubted that he was capable of doing anything right as if he hadn't learned from the catastrophe called Arathi Highlands.

It  _hurt_ , because it was clearly the same situation as he had faced the last hour with Lady Windrunner. She, too, seemed to judge him too young for his rank and too inexperienced to be able to live up to his appointment as the Leader of the Alliance.

Faced with Anduin's silence, Genn's chagrin and lack of understanding came through. “What on Azeroth made you go to her? And alone, I suspect? You have a death wish? - She's mad and dangerous at the same time.”

He was shaken again, but Anduin let it happen because he knew the elder man better than anyone and understood his grief and sorrow – maybe a bit all too well by himself.

“Genn.”

Anduin turned to him, overwhelmed by exhaustion. He wanted some peace, something he wasn't allowed to have for some days, and above all he wished to avoid adding a personal fight with Genn to the argument with Lady Windrunner. By the Light, didn't he deserve some rest, after all?

“Can you please... let this go for now? I really need to sleep. - And I think you need to rest, too. - Genn?”

Since he was still being held by his upper arms, Anduin placed his hands on Genn's elbows, trying to calm his friend down.

But the elder man shrugged them off and shook his head, still furious. “This is far from over, Anduin. But I will allow you to rest, if only because you're my best friend's son.”

And then he was gone in an instant, leaving a shocked and sad Anduin back who felt reduced from being a friend to being his father's son. Again? What had he done to be judged twice a day? He was taken aback by the sudden and legitimate question if he was the only one who wanted peace. By the Light, what went wrong with Azeroth?

Anduin's world fell apart in realizing that the seemingly unbreakable friendship he always thought he shared with Genn could suffer a setback due to her. A freaking Banshee Queen. No, that was not something he would've  _ever_ expected to happen.

He couldn't sleep, reeled as he was, without getting some answers. Or at least the most important  _one_ . Although his leaden tiredness nearly wore him down, he steeled himself.

Instead of going to bed, he slipped back into his boots, chose some hooded clothing and hurried back to the Stockades, grimly determined. Being in emotional turmoil allowed him no sleep anyway.

_Back to her_.

*

The door of the cell rattled again and the Warchief of the Horde looked up. Smirking.

Anduin knew that he looked like a complete fool, coming here again. And it didn't take long for her to give voice to that.

“Back so soon, _boy-king_?”

Of course he deserved that mocking. Anduin cursed himself for his impulsiveness, but in the end his need for answers was stronger. Genn's accusation of him being biased stung.

“Lady Windrunner.”

He waved the guards away and waited until they were gone. This time he didn't take a seat but remained upright. He leaned against the wall – its coldness seeping a bit through his clothing helped him regain balance in his overheated thoughts – not far from her bench, arms folded.

His feet had been quicker to bring him back here than he had intended. He was wondering about it. Maybe... because he had almost felt _comfortable_ with her in their conversation? In their battle of words. It was a new world for him, this, to fight, to argue, to be curious, to be open, to talk with someone – someone like her. And that had, sadly, made him defend her against his eldest friend. Father substitute. Military experienced advisor.

Still hurt from Genn's reaction he didn't realize that she stood up and came closer, looking right at him, red eyes meeting blue eyes again.

“Tell me, boy-king,” she sneered at him. “Regrets for leaving me? Bad news?”

He would've laughed at her choice of words because it felt like... she actually cared. But who was he fooling?

Instead of answering, he just looked back at her, inhaling deeply before his thirst for knowledge forced him to tell her why he was really here.

“I need some answers.”

Sylvanas raised her long, elegant eyebrows. “I have no time for questions.”

Anduin couldn't help but roll his eyes. “My apologies if I got in the way of your brooding, Lady Windrunner. It pains me greatly to put you in such distress.”

She watched him, the corners of the mouth twitching, red eyes piercing through him again. “Then I trust you will not waste my _distress_.”

“I can't sleep.” Anduin admitted sincerely after a moment, although he knew she was teasing him. He just stood there, watching her, perhaps – perhaps a bit too considerate. “I need to get _one_ thing straight.”

“We're done with talking about peace.” Sylvanas sneered immediately.

Standing his ground, he retorted only: “Are we?”

“Do not dance around this, young king.” 

Anduin sighed and was going for another try when she - clearly annoyed with him - turned around without a word and walked back towards her bench.

"Lady Windrunner.”

Such a friendly welcome, Anduin thought and walked after her, summoning all his courage and taking a leap of faith. “Will you hear me out this time?”

She stopped where she was, only tilting her head. “What for? - I've already told you I will claim what is ours so don't waste my time.”

Anduin groaned quietly. “I thought we already sorted this out.”

“You try my patience dangerously, boy-king.”

It was obvious she wanted him to leave, but Anduin ignored her comment, his stubbornness refusing to accept her words. “I'm sorry for interrupting your plans for the night, Warchief, but this is important.” Anduin didn't bother to let his sarcasm on.

Sylvanas had to smirk against her will. On the one hand, a part of her welcomed him back here, especially when he unveiled a bit of the dry humor he seemed to possess. On the other hand, dawn was almost here... and there were indeed plans at work.

“Plans for the night? What sort of plans could I possibly have?”

“Stop teasing me.”

She acted surprised but was amused to no end when she turned towards him. “But you _like_ being teased by me.”

Anduin eyed her, getting slightly acidic that she always seemed to get the upper hand. Whenever he thought he had figured her out a bit, she made a whole turn in their conversation. Alright. Time for an honest answer. “Maybe it keeps me up.”

He looked way too... smug to her while admitting this. Her friendly mocking words turned icy. “The young king is far too used to be taken seriously.”

Sylvana's red eyes glowed. “ _I_ will never. - That's why you're coming back like a well behaved dog."

He clearly didn't like her reference at the end, but he was too tired for another blow. Even if not too tired for his mind to stop thinking about all that had happened today. It was slowly making him crazy. And the real truth was – there was nowhere else for him to go. He couldn't talk to Genn, not anymore. Jaina had her own difficulties to fight with. Wyll Benton, his elderly servant was gone... and so was his father. Although he tried everything to get used to the pain, it still lingered.

And so, choosing not to engage her in her chosen battlefield, he heard his voice drop, eyes still very much on her face. “I might feel... comfortable here.”

Yes, that was the naked truth although Anduin knew all too well he had given her only more ammunition to use against him. Screw it.

“Don't get too comfortable, boy-king. You do well to embrace the cruel cards fate has dealt us and will deal us in the future.”

“I'm not lost, if that's what you think.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Aren't you? Look at yourself.”

Anduin shook his head but didn't deny her words. “We have a saying where I'm from: It is darkest just before the dawn.”

Sylvanas frowned. “I wonder what your fate holds, young king? When fate decides your time is over?”

“I think now you overestimate fate – all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”Anduin replied.

“Do we?” Another derisive laugh of hers. " _You_ don't know what fate means. What joy is there in the curse of the Forsaken? Once upon a time, there was a man child not unlike you, his name was Arthas – and he destroyed everything I held dear. And you talk about fate like it is for us to decide when it is already decided for us.” 

“That's not what I meant.” Anduin stepped forward. “I am nothing... like Arthas. - And you know it.”

Sylvanas snorted. " _Your_ Alliance will never recognize our rights as you claim this land as your own while attempting to invalidate our claims...”

All Anduin had wanted was to find... some diversion for his mind, and here he was, confronted with strong accusations again. This was not the direction he wanted their conversation to go so he answered as calmly as he could: “I honor your arguments in service for the Horde, yet...”

He was interrupted by her snarl. “The Horde gave my Forsaken a chance to survive when _your_ Alliance did not.”

“Lady Windrunner.” Anduin sighed, resorting to his diplomatic skill. “As I told you before, I am strongly convinced there is a chance for us all to survive here, on Azeroth, side by side.”

“And here it is the fool and his naivety speaking.”

“Here it is the youth speaking.” Anduin countered. “Which has the right to make mistakes but to believe in healing the world and making it a better place.”

Sylvanas snorted but preferred to stay silent.

“Because who else would?” He added after a while, having Genn's arguments and everything else freshly brought back to his mind.

“I see you feel like you're always on the right side of things.” She mocked him again, but her voice sounded less cruel than before.

“No.” Anduin shook his head. “A king is only as noble as the cause that he serves.”

Her derisive laugh was an answer itself.

“Of course. You're the knight in the shining armor who comes to rescue the fallen world. You are one who embodies everything good and holy and justly lawful.”

Platitudes again? Anduin's hidden temper rose, being tired of taking all the blame. " _If_ I were, I would've just burned you with Holy Light.”

There. It was in the room. Something he had never wanted to say. And now he was left to ask himself why he gave such a damn about her opinion and why _her_ opinion counted more to him than anybody else's right now. Was he that desperate for being acknowledged? For being recognized as a worthy adversary of the Horde? Why did she make him react in such extremes?

Anduin, who was usually quite good at keeping himself in check, calmed down rapidly. He just stepped back. Flushed, embarrassed, agitated.

“I offer my apologies. - That was really below the belt.”

He swallowed and looked away, still feeling the innermost ashamed. Where had his manners gone to? Why, now of all times, hadn't he kept his mouth shut? He brushed through his hair, the exhaustion arising from all this fighting almost making him sway. It was becoming quite clear he fought a new battle on lost ground. He rubbed his eyes, feeling miserable.

“Initially, I came here to ask you about my father's death.”

_This_ was not a topic Sylvanas liked to talk about, so she turned around. “In the end, death claims us all, young king. - Let's leave it at that.” Her answer was brief. And dismissive.

Anduin stared after her with heightened attention.

“I know how my father died. And I might know – that you had no direct hand in it.”

His clear words, spoken with a certainty that wasn't there before, made Sylvanas turn back towards him to find bright blue eyes scrutinizing her.

Sylvanas realized with astonishment that he had meant what he had said when he added: “Although Genn wants me to believe otherwise.”

Anduin swallowed. “I had a short vision when I came to the place where he died. And you weren't in it.”

Then, he hesitated, aware of her heightened attention as well.

“What I don't know is why you... retreated. The overall opinion is that my father was slain as much by betrayal from you as by the monstrous, fel-fueled creatures. But someone told me that you simply had had no other choice. - Which one is it?”

Sylvanas observed him sharply, yet, the young king hid his emotions well this time. She knew how much he had loved his father. It was obvious how much he still missed him. Speaking of family, she was reminded of her sisters. How much she missed them, too, knowing full well there was no way for reuniting with them again in her... kind of life. It tipped the scales.

“The Warchief – Vol'jin – was mortally wounded by a poisoned spear. I came to secure him but he urged me not to let the Horde die this day. So... I blew my horn and ordered a retreat.”

She made a significant pause. “I did not betray your father.”

Suddenly she understood a bit of the telltale stories, how the young king could've managed to befriend Baine Bloodhoof – and to speak with Garrosh Hellscream, too. He had something about him that made others open. Vulnerable. Herein lied his strength. And hadn't he almost caught her, too? It was time to end this talk.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

As some of the inner and physical tension lowered, Anduin staggered a bit but caught himself because there was one last thing he wanted to tell her.

“You know... I heard your 'For the Horde' battle cry – and I had the feeling it was really meant. From the heart.”

She just looked at him, those red piercing eyes still glowing and said no word.

Anduin sighed. What had he expected?

“Somehow I had to answer your... rally.” He continued, slowly, quietly. When no reaction came, he shook his head. “I won't bother you anymore, Lady Windrunner. Goodnight.”

He turned towards the cell door and had already called for the guards when her remark held him back.

“Is that a promise or a threat, boy-king?”

He smiled a weary smile while turning his head to the side. “What do you prefer, Warchief?”

She answered without missing a beat. “I have no time for questions.”

Anduin nodded, well aware of her teasing. “I know we're enemies, Lady Windrunner, but allow me to say there is more to you than meets the eye.”

The long elegant brows frowned. There was a pause, it stretched until she found her usual sneering voice. “I suggest you go back to your beauty sleep – for both of ours' sake.”

Sylvanas turned around and Anduin left with a sigh.


	3. processing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry I'm a bit late, but RL... and because this was really difficult to put on paper. You sneak a peek at two worlds!  
> And without you, _Windcage_ , this would've never been possible. And _Lizzy_ , who's still fighting.  
> Thank you for your kind reviews, dear readers!

After returning to his quarters, Anduin had fallen in his bed – and slept. He had probably heard the first and second knocks on his door without acknowledging them, and when he took notice of the third one, Genn was already storming into his sleeping room to roughly shake him awake.

“My king, wake up. - Anduin!”

The young king, heavily ripped off his vital sleep, rubbed his eyes, still fatigued, trying to come to his senses. It sure felt like he had just dropped off.

“What is it now?” Was all he asked, exhaustion still clinging to him.

Genn who was still fully clothed – hadn't gone to bed anyway, Anduin mused – shook his head.

“Hurry, please. There was an ambush at the Stockades. Some prisoners escaped.”

With a jerk, the meaning of the words hitting, Anduin was on alert and jumped out of his bed.

Genn followed him into the antechamber where the young man - after shortly detouring in the bathroom - slipped in his royal tunic and grabbed for his boots while adjusting the representative parts in a haste. Every grip sat firmly. At least one thing that goes according to my plan, Anduin thought, weary, in between some yawns.

“You might be interested to hear that your _precious queen_ is gone as well.”

Genn's sarcasm wasn't to be missed, yet Anduin had no time to dwell on it. And hadn't he been mocked the whole night? There were more urgent matters at hand now. As quick as he could be, he was already at the door.

“Are you coming?” He asked while racing through the threshold.

Genn scoffed when he hurried after Anduin, who – while adjusting the sash and the belt - already tried to develop a proper strategy to organize the Stormwind Guards and Town criers to avoid wrecking too much havoc in his city. The most important thing was to secure his citizens. And the Guards had to be advised to take their posts, to lower the gates and to block the exits, so the Horde was not allowed to escape. There was also a War council to be summoned as fast as possible when this was over.

Anduin had already issued his first orders in the Throne Room when he thought of Jaina. She currently stayed in Stormwind at the Mage Quarter and had to be informed as well.

*

Sylvanas had watched Anduin go, for the most part relieved. It was not a question of just being tired of going over all those same old irritating arguments with him – and seeing him purposely missing her point, stubborn prat that he was – there was the question of her rescue, dawn already being close. However, she would have liked to tease the young king a bit more to get him out of his shell. Given how tired he was he hid less behind the shield he usually put on. Who knew, the young boy possessed more backbone than she had thought. She had already watched his careful behavior at the Arathi Highlands. Then, she had thought him naïve, something akin to an ingenuous fool, but not stupid. Fury walled up inside her when she thought of the incident again. They had been both gulled by the Menethil girl... better not to think of it.

She returned to her bench. She had expected their second encounter to end on a much more hostile note, she had in general expected torture and other visitors, but nothing of the sort had happened. Was she perhaps under protection of the young king?

She shook her head. He was far too much in her head for her taste, him being an issue she shouldn't herself indulge in, having more urgent and present matters at hand to deal with. Sylvanas closed her eyes, pondering her next steps in the silence of her cell until the sound of shouts and then the clashing of arms rose her from her musings. My rescue mission is arriving earlier than I thought, she smirked.

Having entrusted this secret mission to Nathanos and the Horde's champion was proving to have been a master stroke. She trusted both of them completely, something which had became rare since certain members of the Horde seemed to feel her recent actions had been indiscriminate. The real objective, however, was not just her, but another political prisoner, too. To win this war, the Horde needed more allies. It played right into _her_ hands that the young boy-king had gotten _his_ hands on something that didn't belong to him – and that could easily change the war in the faction's favor.

The rattling of the keys when the Horde's champion opened her cell door reminded her of another visitor. The one who had taken care of releasing her from the chains. He had made this a lot easier.

“Greetings, Warchief of the Horde.”

“Be quick.”

“First Arcanist Thalyssra of the Nightborne and Shadowhunter Rokhan of the Darkspear tribe are already freeing Princess Talanji, Dark Lady. Nathanos Blightcaller and Lasan Skyhorn wait for us at the Harbor.”

“Good.” She nodded while following the champion out of the cell and over to where the others were already standing. There was a quick introduction.

Princess Talanji, the political prisoner whom Sylvanas had come for was easily recognized by her traditional and magnificent clothing. The proud and beautiful young troll princess was accompanied by another troll who called himself Zul the Prophet.

Sylvanas took one look around. “Where's Saurfang?” Of course was the troublemaker of an Orc missing.

Thalyssra only shook her head. “He chose to distract our Guards which is why we must hurry.”

The troll, Zul, who seemed to know the way, lead them out of the Stockades. Their action had already caused an uproar among Stormwind, giving the Horde chase throughout the City. Guards were patrolling everywhere.

“We gotta get out of here. I kin help us sneak past all dem guards.” Rokhan, known as the Horde's best scout, used his power to their advantage. Due to his ability to stealth the group they arrived safely at the Canals, a series of waterways that winded their way through the city - unfortunately the only way out of the prison - avoiding Stormwind Guards, Stormwind Knights and detector robots on their way. When they were just crossing a bridge, Zul suddenly stopped.

“Jump off de bridge. Now.”

Rokhan, who went ahead, shook his head. “Eh?”

But Zul was already jumping. “Now!”

Sylvanas wasn't excited, but she jumped with the rest of the group immediately into the water. She wanted out. Truly out when she realized that, of all things, it was the young king who neared on his white horse – how appropriate, she mocked in her own thoughts, considering their former discussion of the _knight in shining armor_ – surrounded by his Royal Guards and Clerics, personally on duty to protect his people. He was on his way to cross the bridge, the very same bridge they had been standing on, when he suddenly steadied his horse.

There was this one look from the young king. Exactly one. Down from the bridge to the Canal below. To the left side, precisely to where the whole invisible Horde group rested in the water, keeping silent. Sylvanas realized that Anduin looked directly at her. Did he know or feel that she was there? He seemed to be weighing his options. She could still recognize the eye rims, the worn out look. It was almost disconcerting how good she remembered it. Obviously they hadn't let him sleep long. She could hear his clear and bright voice. 

“Remain alert. SI:7 has informed us that the enemy emerged near the Keep. They cannot have gone far. Your vigilance safeguards us all.”

The decision was made, Anduin was riding on and took on patrolling again. The moment he was gone, Rokhan prompted the group forward - he, too, not fond of staying any longer than needed. They hurried towards the harbor with some minor skirmishes along their way. There they finally met Nathanos Blightcaller. His relief to find his Dark Lady back among them was cut short, however, when Lady Jaina Proudmoore along with her Mageguard Elites arrived, cornering them and forcing Rokhan to give up the stealth spell.

“You have slain many to get this far. But it is over.” Jaina said, voice raised. “Surrender, and I will return you to the Stockades where you belong. There, you will await the king's justice.”

Ice from the 'Frost Nova' she cast burst out of the ground, pinning them on the spot. Stepping over the frozen ground, ice cracking under her feet, she scrutinized each of them. It was Zul, the Prophet, who broke the silence. Voice smug. “Let us not be hasty. You can finish us, mere pawns of the Horde, or you can quench the flames that will otherwise burn Stormwind to the ground. - Your choice.”

And the way he said it made Jaina look upwards, where Zul's torch had already generated high flames that flickered over the big rooks of Stormwind. “No... it can't be.”

And just then, the young king's bright and clear voice was heard from the walls high above Stormwind's harbor. If not Zul's threat, then Anduin's cry for help finally took the decision out of Jaina's hand. “Jaina. Where are you? I need you here.” 

Immediately, the blonde, furious mage turned and vanished with her Elites, teleporting back to the city.

They set sail, away from the smoky flames and the tumult of Stormwind City. The fog that surrounded the coastline and the greyish dawn helped them to disappear more or less unnoticeable. To where now? There had been a short discussion, yet Sylvanas as Warchief of the Horde didn't take part. Princess Talanji decided to take sail to Zuldazar, although Nathanos insisted to sail to Orgrimmar first. Something that resulted in an almost rude response when she addressed him, determined: “Seeing as how dis is my ship I think you will need to adjust your plans. - Regardless of what your warchief wants, I must return to my people. We are going to Zandalar as dis is my ship and dis is your only way out of Stormwind.”

Nathanos was only left to agree, although he did so with clenched teeth.

Sylvanas had preferred to stay on the ship's main deck, walking up to the stern deck where she went to the rail, looking backwards. It had been her wish to escape undetected. It would have worked in their favor had it been so. Now the Alliance knew that not only she was gone but the other prisoners as well – and that it was clearly the Horde's doing, not the Zandalari's own! It would not take long for the young king to add one and one together. Damn the male Zandalari troll, his ideas and the fire that not only burned Stormwind but also her plans to vanish quietly with her new allies! Gone were the quiet hours – not always quiet, she thought grimly at the memory of the young king's visit – and the comfort she had taken in them. There was more that would await her, now. Nathanos' approach told her already as much.

“My queen...”

Yet, she wasn't in the mood for receiving news. “Not now, Nathanos.” She answered. Impatient, harsh.

He only bowed and announced immediately the issue. “We're heading to Zandalar first, Princess Talanji's wish. We will continue sailing to Orgrimmar, then.” He looked back and dropped his voice. “Do you think it wise to gain the Zandalari as allies?- They have proven their worth so far, yet I don't like that... Troll Princess denying us the right to sail to Kalimdor, first.”

Sylvanas frowned, but responded shortly. “I honor your dedication, Nathanos.”

Nathanos knew he was dismissed. Even so, he hesitated. What had happened in Stormwind to put her in such a mood? All had gone well. Nathanos' only focus had been his queen, eagerly awaiting her at the harbor. How glad he was that she was back to safety, at his side.

“My queen...”

“Go. I have much to ponder.” 

The ship gained speed but Sylvanas rested where she was, looking backwards. She could feel Nathanos' presence lingering, but then he left her. Something rotted her to the spot where she stood, looking back to the shores of Stormwind City and the dance of flames in the distant, black smoke against the slowly clearing sky. There was something biting at her thoughts. A question that wouldn't leave her. Why had the young king let them go? Why had he let her go?

*

Anduin seethed with anger on the inside. The message that his city burned had reached him just as the flames started to rise over the roofs, the night's breeze fanning their unrelenting advance. Leaving his stallion behind in a hurry, he had stormed by foot towards Cathedral Square, marching passed a deluge of citizens and joining those who had stayed behind to save their houses from the flames. 

His first instinct was to blame _her_. Completely. He had brought openness... and something like trust to her and this was how she paid him back? Looking from a rational point of view, he had suspected from the start what a kind of person she was, so all he could do was blame himself. Yet, there had been some moments during their battle of words when he had felt he had touched something in her that could still be swayed – that could still be convinced to turn back? Never give up hope, he told himself while running around, healing the wounds of his citizens, giving them hope, helping wherever his help was needed and then, finally, looking out for Jaina when he was told she went to the harbor to confront the Horde forces. But that didn't matter anymore. Her frost barrages to get the fire under control were needed here. And so, he went after her himself.

The peaking sun would find Anduin preparing the political summit that would take place the same day. In the back of his mind he was still thinking about the night's events and that particular moment on the bridge, when he had felt Lady Windrunner's presence in the Canals. Looking down into the clear water, everything had seemed fine and he had continued searching – until he heard the news of his city set ablaze and he had been forced to go all the way back, being on the other end, in Old Town. The anger which had been his companion the whole time gave finally way to exhaustion and he fell asleep at his father's desk.

*

STORMWIND KEEP  
The sun – having dissolved Stormwind City's fog and moist from the early day – sent its long and warm rays into Stormwind Keep's Throne room. Inside, a group of people gathered around the big table in the middle. The noises from the repairs of his damaged City – on which task Anduin had set all his craftsmen - were heard as a low echo. He stood on the broadside of the table, staring musingly at the maps and reconsidered the short talk he had had before with Lady Jaina Proudmoore, in private, after taking a visit throughout his City and walking back together. 

_“Just allow me one word, Anduin.” Jaina had said to him, and he had looked at her questioningly._  
_“Genn told me you visited the Warchief of the Horde in her cell before she was broken out.” Jaina had shaken her head, almost shocked. “Are you mad, Anduin?”_  
_Anduin's first answer had been a sigh. Of course Genn couldn't have kept his mouth shut knowing very well that Jaina wouldn't hesitate to confront him. “And what else did he tell you?”_  
_“Anduin.” Jaina had recognized immediately the defiant look in his blue eyes, knowing him since his childhood. “I know you are... an angel of peace – but peace is not always the answer. Be careful who you trust.”_  
_Anduin had shot her a meaningful glance back. “I am, Jaina, yet - you know as well as I do sometimes we must fight for what we believe in. There'll be peace. One day...”_  
_Jaina had shaken her head, again. “By trying to get the Warchief of the Horde to talk to you, Anduin? We are at crossroads and we both cannot dream any longer.”_  
_She had hesitated. “I'm sorry I wasn't able to capture them... you know, she was there, with her champions, along with the two Zandalari prisoners and also... First Arcanist Thalyssra and a troll, I believe they called him Rokhan... - and they were really smug about their escape.”_  
_Anduin who had watched her kindly, nodded. “The Horde gathered quite a troupe to free their Warchief – not to say our prisoners. I didn't know they were so ruthless - but then, I guess you would've done the same if it were me they had imprisoned.”_  
_He had taken comfort in Jaina's quick smile. “What question is this, Anduin. - Of course we would've done the same. Leaving you in the fangs of this crazy lady and those animals? No way. I would've feared for your life every second. It's not the same justice as you practice here.” She had tilted her head. “On another note. The male one of the Zandalari prisoners was the one who laid the fire and threatened me with it. - I decided that teleporting back to the city was more important.”_  
_Anduin had squeezed her hand shortly. “Of course. I called for you. Why do you doubt this yourself? Jaina, I know you have been wronged often – but please be the one who believes in me as I believe in you.”_  
_What he couldn't have told her was that he was somehow relieved to hear... that it hadn't been Lady Windrunner herself who had put his city on fire. It might be childish to even think in such simple terms, yet this time he was just glad that it wasn't her personal doing. Maybe he could hold onto his belief that there was some good left in her a bit longer._  
_Jaina had watched him for a long amount of time, finally answering: “I do believe in you. - Never temper your passion for peace, Anduin. May the Light always protect you...”_

Anduin was interrupted in his musings when suddenly someone cleared his throat next to him. He looked up. Right now, he was flanked by Genn Greymane on the one side, and Lady Jaina Proudmoore on the other side. There was a Representative from the Noble Houses of Stormwind. High Tinker Gelbin Mekkatorque from the gnomes had arrived as well as the members of the Council of the Three Hammers in representation of the dwarfs, Moira Thaurissan, Muradin Bronzebeard and Falstad Wildhammer. Lady Alleria Windrunner who substituted for the Silvermoon exiles, stood next to them. High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind who led the Darnassus night elves had also come, yet, Archdruid Malfurion Stormrage, Turalyon from the Army of the Light and Prophet Velen who led the draenei were absent, the latter's absence truly missed by Anduin who would've loved to talk a bit with him in private. - They were all curious to hear about the latest news, some of them having participated in the Battle for Lordaeron only yesterday.

“Greetings to you all,” Anduin started slowly, concentrating on the task at hand, “Stormwind honors your service to the Alliance. I've summoned you here to talk about the latest events and to develop new strategies. The Horde has forced our hand again. This cannot stand. Our enemies remain one step ahead of us. We must close that gap. As most of you know -”

It was then that Mathias Shaw, Leader of SI:7, entered. Anduin nodded towards him.

“Everyone is here. What news do you bring, Spymaster?”

“Recently, Horde agents broke into the Stockades and freed their Warchief along with two Zandalari prisoners. A princess. And a prophet.” Shaw answered.

Anduin stayed calm. “I'm aware. What of the Warships we sent in pursuit?”

“Only one of eight returned. Survivors say they encountered strange and terrifying magic. And a massive Zandalari fleet.”

One of eight returned? And who had ordered eight of them to go, Anduin asked himself with a hint of anger at the slow and not always direct chain of command of the Alliance's navy. He had ordered some ships to follow, but not the entirety of the fleet presently stationed here in Stormwind Harbor. Who had had the final decision on this? - Something to be found out later.

“Impossible! It's one of Sylvanas' tricks. It has to be...” Genn grumbled, shaking his head.

Alleria turned towards him. “She may have lots of tricks, yet that doesn't sound like her.”

Secretly, Anduin consented to her elder sister. Lady Windrunner might be responsible for much, but not all. Such tricks spoke of someone else who knew enough magic – mixed with voodoo. 

Tyrande was the next to raise her voice. “We are wasting time! They defile everything they touch!”

“New struggles await us with each dawn, and uncertainty weighs upon us all.” Genn growled at her. He was still grim at the fact that the Banshee Queen had escaped them.

The night elf's leader agreed, her distaste for the Horde since the Burning of Teldrassil overflowing. “What are we waiting for? This is our final stand!”

“But we've suffered many tragedies!” Gelbin interjected.

Anduin was just about to require attention when Jaina stepped forward. “We must hold strong. The Horde's retrieval party consisted of none other than what is the Horde's new champion I guess, followed by Nathanos Blightcaller, the Warchief's own champion, a troll named Rokhan and First Arcanist Thalyssra, Leader of the Nightborne...”

She was interrupted by Tyrande's annoyed tone. “Speak quickly, I am not in the mood for Thalyssra's doings...”

Anduin groaned inwardly. This was a good start, indeed. “Jaina, perhaps you could help us see what this survivor has seen?” He intervened as gentle as the situation obviously called for. “If the Horde makes allies of the Zandalari, we won't have the power to stop them.”

After they had been shown what Princess Talanji's magic was capable of – a vision of the eight Alliance's vessels had risen before them, pursuing the Horde ship and closing in on it, then the Zandalari Princess walked out onto the top of the deck and cast a spell. Thick fog surrounded all ships, and when the Alliance ships finally broke through it and caught up, they were attacked by the Zandalari turrets and their ships. Seven of the vessels sunk in the crossfire while the eighth one turned around and fled -, silence ensued for a moment.

There go my people and my ships, Anduin thought with another hint of anger. Yet, he was the first to speak again to clarify the situation. “The Zandalari fleet is not one to be underestimated. I was informed that the Zandalari trolls are not only well known for their naval abilities, they are also known for their Voodoo power. King Rastakhan, their ruler, is blessed with a long life and a strength beyond most trolls. He has ruled wisely over two hundred years. Princess Talanji is his only daughter which might explain her powerful skills.” 

“Then we must make allies of our own.” Jaina replied immediately.

A short smile played around his lips when Anduin acceded to her. “It is indeed time for us to bring in new allies to join our cause.”

Moira's supporting contribution was to be heard, Muradin and Falstad nodded in agreement. “The Alliance needs strength. Unity. The king's plan to bring in fresh blood is a good one.”

Gelbin, who stood next to the dwarfs, whispered to them: “The young king reminds me so much of his father. More than he realizes, I think.”

“Speak louder!” Muradin whispered back.

Which the High Tinker did: “I'm convinced the young king is the right person to lead this effort and bring new faces into the Alliance.” 

“But time waits for no one.” Tyrande argued.

“Which is why,” Anduin picked up her thread, “I was thinking of Kul Tiras, the greatest naval power in all of Azeroth and a former ally.” Turning questioningly towards Jaina, he waited patiently for her response. All eyes turned to her.

Jaina swallowed, but nodded and repeated Anduin's words. “My people command the most powerful navy in all of Azeroth. If I could bring Kul Tiras back into the Alliance...”

Genn could only smirk. “Jaina, you're the reason they left the Alliance.”

She turned towards the young king, determined. “And dealing with that is the only hope we have of bringing them back.”

“I believe it is... and I believe you can.” Anduin answered her softly. “It will be difficult... and dangerous.”

Jaina sighed, yet her position was consolidated. “I will return with the fleet... or not at all. - If you'll excuse me, I must prepare my ship.”

Anduin who had already foreseen her reaction, tilted his head hesitantly. He was loath to put Jaina in harm's way, seeing her constantly criticized for a decision she made one day, believing so deeply in the promise of peace between the Alliance and Horde that she had betrayed her own father... if one were to call it like that. 

“I'll place the Alliance's emissary at your side. He'll meet you in the harbor when you are ready to depart. - Be careful, Jaina. Light be with you.”

Nodding towards all, she turned and left the Council heading towards Stormwind's harbor – sailing off to Boralus, accompanied by one of Anduin's most trusted men. In her absence, the Council continued to be in session.

“Now. On to the next topic, since we got that settled.” Anduin proceeded to say, his mind filling with options to support Jaina in Kul Tiras furthermore. There was the possibility of sending a very experienced and older person after her, yet he wasn't sure if he ought to address it officially or perhaps later on in a private talk. Genn's reaction from the last night vivid on his mind, he decided to go for the latter.

*

GROMMASH HOLD  
They had continued sailing to Bladefist Bay where Sylvanas, now back in the Capital of the Horde, was greeted in a conservative way. Although her companions assured her that it was a good thing the Warchief returned she knew deep down it was not really meant from the heart. When had all this started, them doubting her loyalty towards the Horde?

The first thing she did was summoning a council. All had to come to Grommash Hold where she now resided. The keep was simple and well designed, the warchief's throne to the head end and there was a small chamber behind the throne room with a curtain. After Vol'jin's death, his glaives were put on display to the left side in remembrance of him. 

In the late evening, when the hot climate became bearable and lanterns illuminated Orgrimmar, the flickering firelight throwing dancing shadows on the red canyon walls and creating a mystic atmosphere – something which made it nearly an attractive city to look at - the Leaders of the Horde made their slow way to the Valley of Strength towards Grommash Hold.

Inside, Sylvanas was currently sitting on the warchief's throne, flanked as always by the Kor'kron and some Death Guards, waiting impatiently for the council to start and even more for it to be over and done with. Nathanos who stood beside her was talking to one of her Dark Rangers which gave her time to digress. The question of loyalty was still nagging at her while she took a quick glance at Vol'jin's glaives. 

He had had it all. The loyalty. The trust. The respect. From every part of the Horde. That's why Sylvanas still couldn't understand what had made him promote her warchief. She knew it was not because she had saved him and the Horde, on the Broken Shore - he had said it was the Loa that he honored, that had told him and granted him a vision.

_“You must step out of da shadows and lead.”_

No, it wasn't right. Whatever his 'Loa' had seen, it couldn't be. The shadows were her place. Always had been, since...

“Warchief!” Trade Prince Jastor Gallywix's jovial voice tore her from her musings. “What is the urgency?”

Sylvanas looked up and saw that the others had arrived, too. Starting with Eitrigg who had taken the lead for the Orcs in Orgrimmar while Saurfang was absent - and she had yet to explain to him that Saurfang had stayed in the Stockades to make their escape possible, technically she suspected otherwise, but Rokhan and Thalyssra hadn't told her much so far. Standing next to him was Lasan Skyhorn, the chieftain of the Skyhorn tribe, the Highmountain tauren who often substituted for the busy High Chieftain Mayla Highmountain. There was also Baine Bloodhoof, the leader of the tauren, accompanied by his advisor Hamuul Runetotem. A bit behind Lor'Themar Theron, Lord Regent of Silvermoon, talked to Lady Liadrin, the matriarch of the Blood Knights. Nearby was the group that had made up her retrieval party, Thalyssra and of course Rokhan, who also had Bwemba at his other side. Even Ji Firepaw, the Leader of the Huojin Pandaren – holding himself mostly quiet in the background – had followed her summoning.

When Sylvanas had greeted them all, Baine Bloodhoof immediately came forward, his imposing size and colored body decoration making him always one of the leaders of the Horde to look at first. 

“Warchief, if I may offer a few words,” he began with his sonorous and calm voice, “it is with relief we gather here tonight. Many brave heroes of the Horde fell in the Battle for Lordaeron, but against all odds we have our warchief back.”

There was a very short applause to be heard.

Eitrigg, the elder Orc, nodded at him and raised his voice next. “Yet, what happened to High Overlord Varok Saurfang?”

Something I would like to know, too, Sylvanas thought when Rokhan, who had a similar impressive appearance with his protruding tusks and was the public face of the Darkspear trolls, stepped forward. 

He started his speech with a smile. “Don't ya worry, mon. I'll be lettin' ya know. - While we were on our trip to free our warchief- “ here, he nodded towards Sylvanas, “we split, me and Thalyssra went over to Saurfang's cell, Horde's champion was goin' over to the Dark Lady...”

“And to make it short,” Thalyssra who already stood beside him, laid her hand upon his shoulder and took up the conversation with her smooth and silky voice, “we freed him while he told us he would distract the guards to allow us to escape as quickly as possible.” She raised her voice to emphasize her next words. “Without him, we simply wouldn't have succeeded.”

Nobody knew that the two had decided during the sail on Princess Talanji's ship from Stormwind to Orgrimmar to stick to the short version she told here. No need for further political complications, Thalyssra had explained to Rokhan, knowing full well of the meaning of all those in her long isolation.

Eitrigg was startled. “What?”

To avoid more questions, Thalyssra turned towards him and answered him kindly. “We must forge our own destiny. This decision was High Overlord Varok Saurfang's own. There was great honor in it.”

The elder Orc nodded upon hearing this. “We are bound by blood and honor. I will not forget it.”

Baine who valued Saurfang as well, was quick to present the next question. “So are we gathered here to organize another retrieval party for him?”

Gallywix chimed in. “Yeah sure. But I got a business to run, see...”

Baine interrupted him immediately, not liking the Goblin and his money grubbing schemes very much. “It is my belief – war tests us. Forces us to examine our honor, our convictions which is why...”

Not a fan of Baine's paraphrasing and often flowery language, Nathanos, who had stayed silent up until now, rolled his eyes and muttered: “Make it quick!”

The trade prince, not happy about the interruption either, started louder this time. “But I got a business to run. And a rather delicate one...” He didn't get further, because Eitrigg who bore no love for the Goblin's self-congratulation either, spoke again. “Our fury will save Azeroth!”

Thalyssra, not having partaken in much of these horde council's but watching their dynamic with growing curiosity, took the Orc's interjection seriously and didn't change her kind tone. “We are only as strong as our will.”

Motivated by her comment, Lor'Themar joined in. “We have made many sacrifices...”

Lasan Skyhorn supported his statement with a hum. “Time for us to push our advantage. - Remember, most enemies forget... to look up!” His melodious laughter followed and was contagious.

And suddenly, ideas for Saurfang's retrieval from the Alliance came thick and fast from all sides of the Horde participants.

Sylvanas' eyes glowed a low red. The others' tendency to discuss and argue over insignificant matters that were never bound to happen boring her even before the argument started. If Saurfang's archaic way – a recurrent discussion the two of them had had over and over again and with which she had been fed up with the last time in Lordaeron – made it more important to him to save his fellows than returning to Orgrimmar, then so be it. What else was there to talk about? Looking back, those exchanges with the young king of Stormwind had been almost refreshing compared to the boredom overload here. She might be 'brooding' again - as the boy-king had observed so well - but getting out of the dungeons of Stormwind to be pushed into the political dungeons of Orgrimmar wasn't her idea of being saved. Not by a long shot. It was more like 'off the frying pan and into the fire' to use some of the comparisons a lot of humans – including the young king, she thought – were so in favor of using as if it would make sense to explain a situation better by replacing it with a dubious image. Now that she thought about it, maybe she should have grabbed him and tossed him in here, in the middle of this pandemonium. At least there would be a lively and interesting discussion going around. With his unwavering adoration for 'how to achieve peace' in the best way possible – possessing the essential tactical knowledge and the diplomatic skills to steer every argument towards this topic - he would probably make everyone go into cardiac arrest. Except her. Benefit for being undead again, Sylvanas thought. Her lips twitching, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, she didn't notice that she was keenly observed by her champion.

Nathanos couldn't be more surprised. Rarely did his Queen got in such a good mood while political issues from all sides were tossed around. Yes, they had gotten her out of the Stockades but she had been very offhand with him, then. More brusque than usual. And now? What had transpired that had changed that? He continued watching, fascinated. What was on her mind?

Yet, another one of Gallywix's “Warchief, one moment?” brought her attention back to reality. Where were the talks even at?

“We are still discussing... how to proceed.” Nathanos filled her in, quietly. 

Sylvanas nodded and stood up, deciding to put an end to all suggestions. “Saurfang chose to stay behind and distracted the enemy so we could escape.” Her brief and terse summary left no doubt of the honor in his action. Then, she turned towards Baine and shook her head. “Bloodhoof, I have no time for another secret escape mission. There are other things to do. The _Alliance_ is not to be taken lightly.” 

“Hmm... what is she up to?” Hamuul whispered to Baine who stood beside him, both surprised that their Warchief explicitly mentioned the enemy faction.

Sylvanas continued. “I'm convinced that we will have an advantage when we win the Zandalari trolls as an allied race. I already left the Horde's champion at Zuldazar to help convince King Rakhastan. Gaining him and especially his fleet will be decisive in our fight against the Alliance.” 

Thalyssra was quick to agree. “As I said before, we must forge our own destiny. And we need a plan.”

Eitrigg nodded towards the First Arcanist whose open and clear words he started to like. This was a topic he was invested in, too. “The Horde needs allies. This is true. But to be worthy of a place here, those we recruit must have honor in their hearts, if they lack it, their presence only diminishes us – I suggest we not only try to win the Zandalari, but also the Mag'har Orcs as an allied race.”

Sylvanas turned towards him, not sure whether she should welcome more Orcs in the Horde or not. But then, if they were to bring the Alliance to its knees, they needed all the help they could get. The battle for Lordaeron had taught her that the young king and his forces weren't to be underestimated in the oncoming warfronts. 

“Something to ponder.” Was her short answer while she sat down again.

Baine's calm voice got involved. “We must unite if we are to survive.”

“Highmountain stands!” Lasan added who wanted the Council now to be finished as quick as possible, not a friend of long sessions he feared this one would grow into.

Yet at this moment, Lady Liadrin chose to interfere as well. “Really?” She addressed Rokhan. “Can you give us your word that these trolls are to be trusted?”

Rokhan shook his head. “Don't ya worry, mon. Dis people be comin' from old, ancient traditions. Their spirit is still strong in dis land. Da work they be doin' honors us, the Horde.”

The Lord Regent's pleasant voice was to be heard. “Like our people, the Horde is always in motion.” 

Her head in hands so nobody could see her displeasure that the most important discussion was drifting away again into nothing, Sylvanas decided to interrupt him, tired of how the leaders of the Horde insisted in leaving the immediate threat out of sight. Her clipped voice echoed the sentiment. “So is the Alliance.” 

Nevertheless, Lor'Themar skipped her comment. “The Horde is always changing...”

Yes, Sylvanas thought annoyed, we know, but since the young king is on board, this applies to both factions. Why was it only her who realized this? 

The blood elf continued. “But make no mistake. We will endure.”

Knowing how Lor'Themar loved to bathe in his wail of the old ways being lost, Sylvanas just rolled her eyes. Hell, why were they all in such a talkative mood tonight? How long had this council to go on before she could end it? Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to return to Undercity. Looking around, Grommash Hold lacked the riches and statues of a human palace, and Sylvanas, used to the beautiful architecture of Lordaeron that extended down to Undercity which she valued as an elf - even an undead one - became once more angry at the young King of the Alliance who had forced her to destroy her residence in the Eastern Kingdoms where she had felt far more comfortable. And her thoughts began drifting by themselves when she tried to imagine what that council of him would look like. Something akin to: The Horde is evil. The Horde wants to take all away from us. Ha! He would've been right with that one. Would he have mentioned having talked to her? During the second visit he had admitted that nobody had known that he had gone to her. So was she his dirty little secret? A mischievous smirk was on her face. Poor boy. It must have cost him sleep, his goody two shoes conscience forced to keep silent about this. -  
Something Rokhan said gained suddenly her attention. He wanted to return to Zuldazar to make sure the Horde's Champion got every help she needed? And Baine wanted to accompany him? Hell, the more the merrier. The prospect of something like quiet returning to Orgrimmar made closing this council much easier. Taking them both up on their suggestion, she rose to speak. “It is decided that the both of you can leave tomorrow. The Horde's presence is required there for now, and who better than you, Rokhan and Bloodhoof?” She waved her hand. “We'll continue when you returned.”

Lasan Skyhorn stepped towards the other tauren, seeing a chance to visit Miwana's Longhouse, the inn in the Valley of Wisdom of Orgrimmar. “Well then, I shall show you how to properly break wind!”

Hamuul started to grin. “Can't wait for the call to the skies?”

Lasan's deep laughter – or was it more a guffaw of laughter? - made Sylvanas roll her eyes. What was this now? A comedian council?

Baine couldn't resist to join in. “There is much at... 'steak' here.”

She shook her head when she heard the other ones' cracks, watching Eitrigg rhyme and Rokhan continue.

“I come from the Orcs. We eat with spoons and forks. We love to eat our pork!” 

“Cooking's done. Stew here!” 

This wasn't really happening, was it? Sylvanas rose to her feet. “The council is officially over.”

Now all was left was to plan the next event. When all the others immediately turned to leave, however, she held the goblin back.

“Gallywix? What's your status?”

*

STORMWIND  
Anduin returned to his private quarters late in the night, for once having them all to himself. Although he was dead tired, he took his time to sit by the fire and to have the flames not only give a flickering light but also warm his tired bones. He leaned his head back as his restless mind bothered him again.

The thoughts slipped away... needless to say, to her. He sighed. Since when had this fascination for her started? Since she had begun a discussion with him? Allowing him to say what he meant, to not being measured by everything he did, not being treated either as an egg that could crack at any instant nor with the respect he was used to be met with. Had he grown so tired of having people silence what they thought for fear they would cross a line, he was now searching for someone who would? He was still mulling over the fact that he had admitted by choice that he felt comfortable with her. Because her aggressive behavior and her belligerent attitude reminded him of his father? Was that the reason he didn't feel in the slightest threatened by her? Did he miss his father so much that he sought deliberately the attention of another fierce warrior? Because it was a ground position he knew by heart and felt safe treading on as well as one he knew how to navigate through? He shook the head about himself. That wasn't it. Yes, she was a warrior like Varian. Yes, she had sudden violent outbursts, like him. Yes, she tended to stomp one down, using her arguments like weapons. Not like tools. But at the same time she wasn't him in any of that. If he had only caught a glimpse of her comprehension or of her compassion. If... no sense of posing this questions all over again. It was like it was, and the Warchief of the Horde was a puzzle which he would perhaps never solve. 

He was also thinking of Jaina and his decision to send Genn after her. He still wished to talk with him first thing in the morning. After the council, there hadn't been enough time to catch on him and he had realized that the Worgen avoided him to a certain degree. Probably not wanting to take up on the last discussion either. But Anduin was convinced that Genn was the best for the job, since he knew Jaina's mother, Lady Katherine Proudmoore. And mustn't they share nearly the same age? 

*

After breakfast, which he took alone, and a short visit to the harbor, he went immediately in search of Genn, inquiries finally leading him to Lion's rest, a place of contemplations and remembrance close to the sea, where Genn seemed to have taken refuge. Oddly enough.

“Here you are. - I was looking for you.”

Genn looked up from the bench in the park without a word. His silence not letting on if he was glad or not that Anduin showed up.

The young king sighed. “How long do you plan on staying here in order to avoid me?”

The elder Worgen shook his head. “Can I not just enjoy the beautiful weather?”

Anduin took his place beside him, slightly bent forward. “You can have both – because I would like to ask you to do something for me.”

“And here I thought you came to apologize and mend your ways regarding that _precious queen of yours_?”

Anduin's mouth twitched. “She's not mine, Genn.” And since he thought to take it with a grain of salt – although not much into gossip - he added: “And as far as I'm informed, she already has a champion.”

Genn growled. “I'm not in the mood to talk about this crazy bitch, Anduin. - What is it you came for?”

“Jaina.” The young king answered.

“You're constantly worrying about almost everyone, my king.”

“I'm really worrying about her, otherwise I wouldn't be here, asking you.” Anduin revealed, not knowing how else to express the bad feeling he had since having allowed her to go on a task she had nevertheless suggested herself, but was ignorant to the fact that she put herself in danger with it. “You know as well as I do that she is willing to do anything to defeat the Horde...”

“...which is a good point, Anduin, one only _you_ can't tolerate.”

“May it be as it is, yet I am afraid of her returning home with all the background she brings with...”

“Everybody is the architect of his own fortune.”

But not everybody is as headstrong as you are, Anduin was thinking, trying to go for another approach.

“You do know her mother, Lady Katherine Proudmoore?”

Genn, mumbling, only nodded.

“Then you can guarantee that she will be welcomed with open arms?”

Here, the elder Worgen hesitated answering. “I've heard about some changes in Kul Tiras from Mathias Shaw...”

“So now you do understand why I'm here, pleading for her?”

Genn watched him with raised eyebrows. “And why am I the right person for this?”

The young king granted him a small smile. “Experience and connections?”

He got a snort as an answer. Anduin was well aware that there was still something lost between them that needed to be talked about – but perhaps later. For now, he would be content if he were to make Genn sail over to Kul Tiras. 

“I was just informed that a ship of our fleet which was in the technical overhaul left the dry dock today, ready for use again. You can take the 'Flame of Hope' and sail over to Boralus. Grand Admiral Jeres-Teth,” - with whom Anduin had earlier had a formal talk about the eight ships that were in pursuit of the one ship of the Zandalari princess - “will accompany you. - Genn?”

The elder man shot a brief look back at him, but finally nodded and stood up. “My king.”

Anduin stood up as well trying to find the right words, not wanting to let him go that easily. Was there no way to fix this between them? When the Worgen turned to leave, he stepped in his way. “You still haven't forgiven me for visiting Lady Windrunner.”

“No.” The response was terse.

Anduin's face betrayed no emotions. “I see.”

Genn's hands wandered behind his back. “But I will take care of Jaina.”

“For that I'm grateful.” Anduin replied and gave way, albeit hesitant. 

“I'll find the way to the harbor by myself.”

Anduin nodded. “Safe journey.”

And Genn passed him by, not looking back. Anduin's eyes followed him until he had left the park and was out of sight, feeling more lonely than before. His look turned towards the tomb of stone at the end of the park. Father, he thought to himself, you never taught me that being king also means to be left behind.

The Warchief of the Horde sneaked in his thoughts. Was leading her faction as lonely as this? In retrospective, him visiting her had caused a lot of trouble. He had achieved next to nothing in their discussion about a truce - the only thing he had was clarity about his father's death. Anduin was strongly convinced it had been worth to try nonetheless, to try to achieve peace and to try for a better understanding between each other.

It was already late in the afternoon when Anduin finished the official hearing of his citizens and was about to sign the petitions of the day, that Shaw entered.

One look at his face and Anduin knew there weren't good news waiting for him. “Jaina? Genn?” Were his first questions, but the Spymaster shook his head.

“I just reached news from one of our warfronts. Stromgarde.”

“Stromgarde?” Anduin needed a moment to sort his thoughts. Stromgarde served as the Alliance's base of operations to control Arathi Highlands - and reminded him of another crucial event not that long away. By the Light, too many things were happening too fast.

“There was an incident, your majesty.”

Shaw wasn't one to hesitate with bad news, so why was he waiting now? Anduin had just signed another petition and was looking up, directly at the spymaster. “Yes?”

With raised eyebrows, Anduin waited patiently.

Shaw inhaled deeply. “You should go look for yourself, your majesty.”


	4. dealing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you very much for the kind comments! I tried to write faster, this time. Be warned: this chapter is very dialogue-heavy and I am very curious how you like the new battle of words.
> 
> Thank you, _Windcage_ , for staying with me wherever I take you!

STORMWIND KEEP

“Spymaster Shaw?” Anduin was still waiting, pen in his hand. He gazed at the impenetrable face of Mathias Shaw. 

“Your majesty might remember the Arathi Highlands well from a recent incident.”

Yes, Anduin thought, I do. He nodded.

Shaw continued. “Another incident happened at the Drywhisker mine, and the matter is urgent.”

Anduin knew where the mine was. The dwarfs had mined for iron and silver there. “Isn't it abandoned?”

“No,” Shaw shook his head, “the dwarfs continued to dig when the Alliance and citizens returned to Stromgarde to rebuild it. But with the ore veins being depleted, they were forced to go deeper, it seems they dug so deep, that...” - here, he sighed - “they almost ended up in the inner circle of Stromgarde Keep.”

Anduin raised his eyebrows. “You are telling me they built a tunnel from the mine to the Keep?”

“Yes.” Shaw's serious face told Anduin they were indeed running short of time and he put the pen down.

“So... the incident? What more is there to it before I am heading there?”

Shaw let escape a quick smile about the young king's attention. “The Horde -”

“Didn't you inform me they built something in Northfold Manor?”

“Yes,” Shaw picked up his thread, “but it is called Ar'gorok by the Horde now. They discovered the tunnel. And used it.”

Here, Anduin straightened up while the Spymaster pursued the matter.

“But they had obviously underestimated the structure's sustainability, thus, there was a minor seismic event when a part of the tunnel collapsed.”

“Light, what happened to them?”

“They are closed in. Unfortunately they are not the only ones which is why you must go, your majesty. Dwarven miners are trapped in, too.”

“How long ago...?”

“The 'quake' happened around the morning, your majesty. My information service works well.” Shaw said not without pride.

“Then I must hurry. - Who's at Stromgarde Keep?”

“Danath Trollbane, Turalyon, and of course Muradin Bronzebeard.”

Anduin kept silent, not allowing himself any further comment. Danath Trollbane, a military veteran, recently representing the Kingdom of Stromgarde, was no friend of the Horde in general. Trollbane and himself were not on best terms, but Turalyon was, obviously visiting his friend. And Bronzebeard was there, perhaps checking on the dwarfs' situation. Well.

“And the Horde?”

Shaw nodded while they walked out of the room together. “I was informed of Lady Liadrin's presence from the Kingdom of Quel'Thalas, there should be someone from the orc clans and perhaps a troll?”

This was looking more and more like an incident that needed a diplomatic solution. More than that, however, it was an opportunity. Anduin was determined to take matters into his own hands. If he were to save them... Yes. An idea was gradually shaping up.

*

STROMGARDE KEEP

He stood wearing his distinctive armor draped with a blue tabard bearing the golden lion of Stormwind when he dismounted from the Gryphon who had brought him here. His escort, some Lion's Guards, a dwarf from the 7 th Legion Scout and some men from the 7 th Legion Elite, jumped from their mounts behind him. He was first greeted by Grayson Bell, the Gryphon Master. 

“High King of the Alliance. We didn't expect you here so quickly.”

Anduin only nodded. “Thank you, Gryphon Master, but I think this incident should be clarified, the sooner the better.” He saw Turalyon then nearing, arms raised to try to shield himself from the harsh wind.

The weather was as bad as it was to be expected. The grey clouds that were always hanging in the craggy region, coming from the Sea nearby, rapidly turned the drizzle into heavy rain. Nightly twilight slowly crawling in, Anduin was grateful for his armor that had mostly protected him from the cold air.

He smiled at him. “Greetings, High Exarch.”

“Welcome to Stromgarde, your majesty.” Turalyon greeted him back, then, they walked hastily to the Inner Keep. “The others are in if you were to join us for dinner?”

“I would very much like to.” Anduin replied and entered Stromgarde Keep's most traditional stone building with its famous tower.

The contrary discussion had already begun shortly after Anduin was seated and had been served a hearty dinner in Stromgarde's recently rebuilt Town Hall. The strong beer – a nod to Muradin's presence - might have done the rest, but it was the young king who started it when he told the others frankly that he had come to save them all – both the Alliance's miners  _and_ the Horde's soldiers that were buried underneath. 

Initially, his answer was silence.

Danath Trollbane who was the Militia Commander of Stromgarde - and believed by some, as the nephew of Thoras Trollbane, to be the legitimate leader of the fallen kingdom - was the first to speak. “There are no fitting words for the sorrow I felt upon hearing of Lordaeron's fate – and the fate of my own, beloved Stromgarde. So my answer is: the 'Sons' will yield to no orc – green, brown, and now red. We will overcome them or die trying.”

Anduin sighed inwardly but remained calm. “I understand your point of view very well, Commander, but you have to look at it from my side: saving not only our dwarven miners” - here he nodded towards Muradin Bronzebeard - “but the enemies, too, might give us an advantage. I was told that Ar'gorok, the Horde outpost, is increasing soldiers and supplies, which means they are perhaps preparing for a strike. I don't need to tell you, Commander Trollbane, that Stromgarde is a key location and of crucial importance to the Alliance as well as for the Horde a tactical point to launch an attack and also a key in their defense.”

Turalyon nodded. “Much about Azeroth has changed in the years I was absent. But the Alliance remains an ideal worth fighting for, Danath. If Stromgarde was to fall...”

Danath frowned. “We, the Sons of Lothar, have remained here ever since – fighting... dying... rest assured, I will take care that Stromgarde will not fall in the oncoming war.”

“I know,” Anduin smiled towards him, “I've heard a lot about you from the High Exarch Turalyon. - Yet, your help is needed here and now.” His voice a bit more serious, he leaned forward, looking straight at Trollbane. “This incident might give the Alliance a chance to enter into negotiations with the Horde.”

Danath shook his head. “The Horde was trying to invade us and was punished by the tunnel's collapse. There's no one worth saving – except our miners.”

Anduin's tone sharpened. “I think it's not  _our_ decision who's worth saving and who's not – do we not  _all_ want to live on Azeroth? You even fought for it, for a place to live in, so why do you deny others the same right?”

Turalyon intervened gently. “It is unsettling to look upon this event, Danath, when each of us has a path to follow. We also have our minds and our hearts. We should make use of those as well.”

Danath and Anduin were still in a trial of strength while staring at each other, when the military veteran answered. “I won't repeat myself. I won't yield to orcs. - Perhaps this is a trick to lure us out of the Keep?”

“My Spymaster spoke of a minor seismic event. You really take it as a trick?”

“Isn't it the Horde's duty to save their own soldiers?”

“Perhaps they don't know where to look for?”

Here, Muradin interrupted. “Told ya the entrance of the tunnel of ol' Drywhiskers' mine is buried, too.”

Commander Trollbane continued staring at the young king. “You really want to  _save_ your enemy and make a terrible mistake? Why?”

“As I told you, I'm responsible not only for Stromgarde, but for the  _entire_ Alliance above all. This incident may ensure that we have a place at the 'negotiating' table, so to speak, and that it is possible to make further progress based on this issue. And we have to act now, the situation is serious, Commander.”

Danath, beset of doubts, was still gazing at the young king whose clear and convincing choice of words had a significance he couldn't deny, yet, he wasn't one to easily give in.

“It's obvious we're at war now, and I wonder who's closing his eyes to the simple fact that fighting back is in order. And I say let's make a statement here. I guess the Horde wouldn't have handled the situation differently if they were in our place. Let those bastards stay where they are. Let us show them the strength of Stromgarde!”

Anduin bit his lower lip, but kept calm and focused his complete attention on Trollbane. “I hear nothing else than I've heard before, but - upon being repetitive, perhaps – war is nothing to be trifled with. It brings nothing but loss and pain, things I would argue you know well yourself, given your history. You were considered as one of Stromgarde's most celebrated soldiers and one of the war's prominent veterans, so you know how it feels to sacrifice your men time and time again. You fought against the Legion, like my father did, too. And here we both are, trying to move on in spite of the ones left behind. Or do you choose to restart the same cycle of mindless destruction?”

Silence followed his words again.

Finally, Turalyon spoke prudently. “The last time you campaigned for the Dark Lady – perhaps falling outside the scope, since it was a special occasion - has given rise to particular concern. You might do well to remember that when dealing with her, your majesty.”

“No,” Anduin shook his head and leaned back, a bit puzzled that, today of all days, Turalyon brought the incident in the Arathi Highlands up again but he recognized the worry behind the words, “I haven't forgotten, but given the situation here, I can force the Horde to stick to the current status quo a bit longer. With luck, I might even postpone the next attack. - I profoundly believe every possibility I can get my hands on to deal with the Warchief of the Horde herself is worth fighting for.”

Danath cleared this throat. “Go in expecting trouble, and you'll be likely to survive.” He nodded towards Anduin. “You are one to yield to no one, either.”

“Then it is settled.” Anduin answered him and turned towards the dwarf on the other side of the table. “Muradin, we will need your help with the rescue operation. Is there someone left of your people who knows the tunnels of the Drywhisker mine by heart? Someone we can set on to monitor the digging and burrowing? I brought one of our best scouts with me, so they will have help in locating your missing people.”

“We don't know exactly where they are, as matters stand.” Turalyon said. “But it is clear that the dwarfs must be in a different side corridor from the one the Horde soldiers are at because they were at work, am I correct, Muradin Bronzebeard?”

“Aye.” Muradin answered and nodded towards Anduin. “And there is someone. I present Garrim Thornsteel, a friend of mine, who already lead some diggin' expedition deep into ol' Drywhiskers' mine before.”

The spoken one – the dwarf sitting right next to Muradin – nodded into the circle and raised his stein which brought all the others to raise theirs, too.

“As I understood, the tunnel can be reached directly from here, too?” Anduin noted, glad that the importance of his mission was at least accepted and liking the taste of the heavy and dark traditional brewed beer with a light froth atop. It gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, while the fire, roaring in the fireplace, drove away the wetness that still remained on his clothes from the last part of the Gryphon's flight. “Which means we can set some folk to work from where the tunnel is blocked?”

Muradin nodded. “Aye. And they are already at stand by. I told them to wait until tomorrow because it was their turn to rest and we weren't sure of the danger of another seismic event – but they will be glad to hear they can start now. And also to know the danger they face.”

“Is there an immediate danger – besides the tunnel collapsing again - that we will encounter the Horde soldiers first?” Anduin asked. “I was told it's mostly orcs, but we can't be sure. The Guards and I will be there to stop them when it happens.”

Danath addressed Anduin for the first time officially. “Stromgarde military will escort you as well, High King.”

“We'll need until the mornin' before the blocked tunnel is cleared.” Garrim Thornsteel attested. “Ya majesty will be the first to be informed when we break through.”

Anduin smiled deeply grateful at the dwarf and raised his stein again, saying cheers. “May we be granted with a successful rescue operation.”

Muradin was laughing. “If there's one thing dwarves love, it's drinkin'. And fightin'. Two things. I add a third one: diggin'!”

Garrim joined in. “There is an old dwarven sayin' that goes 'If ya want to topple a wall, start with the foundation'.”

Yes, Anduin thought smiling, let's hope it works here – not only the rescue but also Lady Windrunner.

*

STROMGARDE KEEP, early in the morning

Turalyon was waiting for Anduin when he came down the stairs to inform him of Garrim's success to 'break through', and after a very short breakfast – Anduin still full after yesterday's big dinner – he accompanied him to the site where the tunnel reached inner Stromgarde. They both wandered slowly through Stromgarde, the weather better today, with no rain and only clouds.

Anduin who thought of no better opportunity to pose a question but didn't know how he could bring the respected man to talk about something of the kind, struggled for words.

“High Exarch, I wanted to ask you something.”

Turalyon smiled at him from the side. “Go on, majesty.”

Anduin shook his head. “It's personal, High Exarch. And I don't know if it is my business...” Light, he was still looking for the right words.

Turalyon's look grew curious, but the smile stayed. “You're so young, majesty. If it helps, of course, ask me any personal question you like. - I guess it involves the Light?”

Anduin smiled briefly. “No.”

The High Exarch came to a stop. “No? Then what else?”

Anduin gave himself a push. “You are bound to Alleria Windrunner.”

Turalyon nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Light, how could he make himself clear? “Do you know...” Anduin closed his eyes. If he weren't so bad in such things! He took a deep breath. “Is she  _still_ in contact with both of her sisters?”

He gained an inquiring, surprised look. “Why don't you ask her?”

“I wanted to, but I had no chance after our last council. - I try to understand something, and I need help with it.” Anduin concluded, returning the look openly.

Turalyon shook his head, but continued watching him. “What do you want to understand, majesty? Don't speak in riddles.”

Anduin sighed in despair. “I need help... to understand Lady Windrunner better.”

“Alleria?” Was echoed with astonishment.

“No.” It was Anduin's turn to shake his head. “Sylvanas.”

Turalyon was left speechless.

Anduin felt himself in need to explain. “It's just... after the Battle for Lordaeron, I captured her and she was imprisoned in the Stockades. I visited her late in the night.”

“Alone?”

Anduin raised his hand slightly to hold the other man back from whatever he was about to say. “Don't worry, Genn and Jaina have already lectured me, no need there -”

But Turalyon was shaking his head, again. “I think Alleria is of a much better help here, majesty.”

“Perhaps not.” Anduin answered. 

“Then allow me to say that Alleria is still trying to comprehend how her sister became the Warchief of the Horde. Even when the three sisters met,” - he sighed - “I doubt there actually was an understanding for each other's situation. Didn't she tell you this yourself? So what is your question aimed at, if I may ask?”

Anduin gazed at him. “High Exarch, I very much hope that this talk stays between us. - I may not have grasped the whole meaning in this emotional discussion we had about the Gathering some time ago in Stormwind Keep, but as I said before, I talked with Lady Sylvanas Windrunner in person, and there was a point in our discussion about family and her reaction told me -”

The eyebrows of Turalyon couldn't get higher. He swallowed visibly. “If I may ask again – how good are the terms between the High King of the Alliance and the Warchief of the Horde  _really_ ?”

Anduin smiled. “If you must know, High Exarch, they are excellent. - She insulted me, she threatened me and she didn't leave any opportunity to provoke me.” He nodded. “That's what I call good terms, indeed.”

Turalyon couldn't do anything else but laugh. “That sounds like her. At least, similar to the way Alleria described her to me.” His golden eyes, not unfriendly, turned back towards the young king. “I still can't grasp why you want to understand her. You're a light wielder, majesty, she's a Forsaken with dark magic – those are two different ways to look at life.”

Anduin's smile turned into a big grin. “That's a challenge I am willing to fight for. And I don't think we, as in her and me, are incompatible. - No, in all seriousness, I try to end this war. I can't threaten her into surrendering, and her constant fear of losing everything, especially the Forsaken and the Horde, won't allow her to say yes to peace, so the only way I can win her over is by getting her to trust me.”

Turalyon stared at him, speechless again.

“Did I understand this the correct way: you want to win her over?”

“For peace on Azeroth, yes.” Anduin nodded. “It is my firm and strong belief that the opposing factions can live together. And I think it very necessary to act soon because there are greater dangers out there – not including the threat of a sword stuck into our world – that need us unified and fighting with combined forces.”

Turalyon continued to stare at him. “Anduin, I know you are Varian's son, but how old are you again?”

The given name had slipped from his lips unnoticed by him, but Anduin didn't mind. His grin changed into a sad smile when they arrived at a small tent right next to the crenellated wall of Stromgarde.

“Old enough to see this as my only chance for gaining peace. With _her_ as the current Warchief.”

“What shall I tell you, then, that you perhaps already didn't know?”

“I must understand how much family still means to her and how much her  _sisters_ still care for her, High Exarch. And since I can't ask them, I must ask you.”

“You must.” Turalyon sighed. “Then let me tell you – since this stays between us – that Alleria has given up hope.” He sighed again. “And I remember she told me that Vereesa thought the same, that Sylvanas had been too long in the darkness. Even when her youngest sister apologized to her for promising to stay with her after their plot with Garrosh -” 

Anduin felt suddenly guilty, having his hands in there, too, and his smile vanished.

“\- and for changing her mind at the last minute by letter, Sylvanas didn't react. Not to that and not to Vereesa's hope that one day her elder sister could forgive her.”

“The power of familial bonds.” Anduin said quietly.

“Alleria came back quite sad and when I asked after the meeting she told me that it had felt like old times in the beginning, but it had all changed in the end. She was regretting that they parted in such a way. I'm sorry I can't tell you more. For this, you have to ask Alleria herself, indeed.”

“Thank you,” Anduin replied, “for giving the portrayal of the meeting of the three Windrunner sisters a personal notification.”

“Did I even answer your question?”

“You did, in another way, but you did. - I see now that not all is lost with her which will help me a great deal in our next negotiation.”

“You are quite convinced there will be one.”

Anduin nodded. “She will come when I'm able to save her soldiers. To solve this, we will have to talk.”

“I don't envy you, majesty.”

“I know.” Anduin sighed. “Let's hope I'm more successful, this time. To get through the thick armor she is wearing.”

At this, Turalyon couldn't stop laughing again. “Majesty, if I were you, I would be more careful. You know, the Windrunner sisters have two things in common.”

“Two?”

Turalyon nodded. “First, they have the tendency to choose human males for themselves.”

He had Anduin's complete attention now.

“Second, it is a lifelong-thing to be with them. And a complicated one, if I may add myself because there's a bit of craziness coming along.”

Anduin blushed but couldn't resist to join into the laughing and joked: “Well let's see, then, what the Warchief of the Horde has in store for me.”

They were already standing in front of the opening which had ladders leaned on, when shouts from the inside allowed them both to climb down into the tunnel to hear that Garrim, Muradin and his men had found the dwarven miners. The Lion's Guards, men from the 7 th Legion Elite and the Stromgarde soldiers were already inside. The tunnel opened into a hall, supported by wooden pillars, which had enough place for them all. Mining tools were stored on the side.

Muradin grinned and winked when he saw Anduin and Turalyon coming. “Now we goin' kickin' some Horde asses, your majesty?”

The young king smirked and corrected him gently. “It's a rescue operation, Muradin.”

Then, they made their way deeper into the tunnel which narrowed after a while. No wonder, Anduin thought, that the orcs got stuck after the tunnel collapsed. Silently, he prayed they hadn't arrived too late for them.

*

GROMMASH HOLD, noon

“Banshee Queen.”

Sylvanas, who sat on the warchief's throne and was quite unwilling to receive visitors right now, just nodded when she recognized one of Lor'Themar Theron's people, Grand Magister Rommath, who had addressed her in such a blunt way. The midday heat in Orgrimmar was almost unbearable and had made it comfortably quiet in the Hold.

Nevertheless, she knew how to act as a warchief and smirked. “What is it that the Lord Regent wants this time?”

Rommath remained serious and announced the issue immediately. “There was an incident at one of our posts – Ar'gorok.”

Ar'gorok? Wasn't that the one in the Arathi Highlands? The noble blood elf had suddenly the Warchief's full attention.

“There must be more to this since _you_ are here.”

“I am rather busy,” Rommath stated unswerving, “but the Lord Regent thought it wise to inform you. - The orcs stationed there discovered a tunnel to the Alliance's post which they wanted to explore. While on expedition, the tunnel collapsed and buried our unit. Lady Liadrin went to check on what was happening.”

“What was done to get them out?”

“Nothing.” Rommath shook his head. “The actual weather hadn't allowed any digging, besides, the entrance of the tunnel was destroyed and it is unknown how far... the soldier's unit went.”

Sylvanas couldn't help but roll her eyes. “So we have to wait.”

Here, Rommath hesitated. “Perhaps, not.”

Raised long eyebrows were his answer. “Perhaps? Do not talk in riddles!”

“There were actions observed from the Alliance's side of the tunnel which ends in Stromgarde. We assumed their miners were buried as well. The High King of the Alliance is on site, too.”

_These_ news made Sylvanas leap up from the throne. “The young king himself is on the ground?”

Rommath raised his eyebrows, too. What got the former elf so agitated? “It would not be unwise to take a closer look...”

Sylvanas nodded, already passing him by. “Go. I have much to do.”

A wondering Rommath just stared after her.

Sylvanas boiled inwardly. She had not liked to be disturbed with  _such_ news at all. Knowing Bloodhoof and Rokhan to be in Zuldazar, she had sent Nathanos and Lilian Voss, a Forsaken who was aiding them now after her fraught relationship with the forsaken in earlier days, to Kul'Tiras to check on the status there. It was always good to have an eye on the Alliance's doings. Eitrigg – since they had postponed the Mag'har Orcs plans – had offered to observe the warfront in the Eastern Kingdoms, although a nagging suspicion made Sylvanas assume he was looking for information on Saurfang's situation by himself, and somehow Lady Liadrin had ended with him at Ar'gorok. Why was the Warchief of the Horde thus the last person to be informed when the young king was already present in Stromgarde? Of course, she snorted, it was such a thing for him to do, somebody called for help – he was immediately there, leaving all other things behind. No way she would let him handle this alone. No way!

Because deep down, she feared - knowing him a bit since their discussion in the Stockades - he was not only on his way to save his miners, but her unit as well.  _Which_ would put her in a disadvantageous situation.

*

AR'GOROK

Sylvanas, not wasting any more time, had advised a portal to be opened to Ar'gorok for her Dark Rangers and herself, catching a short view of green grass, grey stones, coniferous trees, Horde banners and a cloudy sky before she stepped with them through it. She arrived in the middle of a well-organised chaos - Ar'gorok was nothing but a wood fortress built by the Horde – yet, when she stood there with the impressive dark rangers around her, the fortress came to a sudden halt.

Eitrigg, who had stood outside the main hub, was the first to arrive and greet her. “Warchief, what an honor you step by. What brings you here?”

Sylvanas was not in the mood for the usual polite exchange. “I was visited by Rommath who told me of an incident here. Care to explain what happened, Eitrigg? And why you didn't inform me earlier?”

Eitrigg who wasn't usually one who reached an impasse, hesitated here. “It is best... the Warchief follows me into the main building, where I can explain.”

Sylvanas nodded, merciless. “You best do, Eitrigg.”

The group made their way to the big wooden building that was on the additionally fortified part of the wall, the craggy side of the Arathi Highlands directly behind it.

Sylvanas entered with only three of her dark rangers and found, to her astonishment, not only Eitrigg and Lady Liadrin, but also Rokhan, obviously discussing how to proceed.

Yet, the Warchief's appearance was a disagreeable surprise because they had just started talking how they could tell her why she had been informed this late without being busted. The simple reason was that none of them had been around when the unit on patrol had gone missing. Eitrigg had been away, trying to find details about the whereabouts of his friend, Saurfang, not content with the Warchief's decision of leaving him behind in the Stockades in Stormwind City, and had returned this morning, just in time to learn about the incident in the mine. Rokhan, in turn, had been ordered to stay in Zuldazar but, not liking Zul the Prophet at all who accompanied Princess Talanji everywhere, had decided in coordination with Baine, to take a trip to the Eastern Kingdoms after they had heard about the missing unit which included trolls and taurens, too. And Liadrin had been sent from Lor'Themar Theron to be of help and check the situation because Ar'gorok wasn't that far from Silvermoon, she had arrived only after the incident.

Silence ensued when Sylvanas folded her arms. “State your business to your Warchief.”

Rokhan was the first to speak, nodding towards her. “Warchief, when da call of help was arrivin' I was leavin' Baine in Zandalar. Pardon, but my trolls could be deep in the danger, too!”

Liadrin nodded. “I came here after Eitrigg sent word over to Silvermoon that a troop on patrol had vanished to see that the Horde holds this territory otherwise well.”

Sylvanas snorted, clearly not amused. “So who's responsible for the part of the Horde – the same one that holds this territory so well – that is now stuck in the mine nearby?”

An embarrassed silence followed her words. Lady Liadrin, less in fear of the Warchief's rage, continued. “We don't know yet – but we were just going to find out.”

Rokhan supported her immediately. “We be assumin' da mine came down.”

Sylvanas continued boiling inside. “So none of you know, that...” She didn't get further because there were screams coming from the outside. They all went outdoors immediately, only to see a group of the Alliance with a white flag nearing the post. Sylvanas who had stayed inside the hub, not wanting to meet  _any_ of them and using her excellent hearing, noted the confused voices.

“Those are Alliance soldiers!”

“What do they want here?”

“We're not already preparing for a strike, are we?”

“They have a white flag!”

“The High King of the Alliance is with them! Do they come in peace?”

In the hub, Sylvanas couldn't help but roll her eyes. Had they all finally understood that the Alliance was a step ahead, not only knowing of the incident but also acting accordingly? What else would the young king do than come in  _peace_ , she thought, visibly annoyed. He must have found the missing soldiers, then. Her wrath flared up and dark feelings captured her in an instant. It wasn't the last time she cursed Vol'jin for his decision to make her the next Warchief. Did she make progress? She wanted to fight a war to ensure her faction's survival, but all she earned were soldiers acting solo. Nobody to blame, as it seemed. She, the Warchief, was the last one to be informed of this. This would have consequences, she swore to herself. Including to the young king. He had dared saving not only his miners but her unit of Horde soldiers, too. It hadn't been her wish to be forced to face  _him_ again so soon.

*

While the Alliance's unit on horse waited patiently in front of the gates of Ar'gorok, the big white flag waving in the wind, Lady Liadrin along with Rokhan and Eitrigg came outside through the opened gate, substituting for the Warchief who preferred for whatever reason to stay inside.

Silence followed for a moment, until Anduin dismounted and came forward.  _She_ wasn't among them? He had glimpsed her Dark Rangers, whom he knew she always took with her everywhere, in the fortress. It proved that she was present. Disappointment shot through him, but drilled in good manners – and after taking a short look at the orc, the troll and the blood elf, and hesitating because he could sense the Light in the last one – he just wanted to greet them when Turalyon, who too had dismounted, came at his side and spoke, looking at the blood elf.

“What's this? Horde invasion, with a paladin in command? What has this world come to?” 

Immediately, Anduin remembered Shaw's information and told himself that the graceful elf with the intense eyes and the red hair, clad head to toe in armor must be Lady Liadrin, the Blood Knight Matriarch, Silvermoon's order of blood elf paladins.

The elf smirked. “You've been away for too long, Turalyon. The world's moved on without you.”

Anduin looked at her with great curiosity. Curiosity, however, did not hold him back from stepping towards her and extend his hand to her.

“You are a light wielder, too, Lady Liadrin. May I express my respect and honor for meeting you, I've heard a lot about you. - I am Anduin Wrynn, High King of the Alliance.”

Lady Liadrin gazed at him, astonished. This  _young_ man with the blonde hair and the bright blue eyes was the leader of the Alliance now? Their High King?

“Pleasantries can wait.” She answered dryly. “May I ask who told you about me?”

Anduin smiled and answered her politely. “You may. We both share an acquaintance: Prophet Velen from Exodar.” The hand stayed extended.

Lady Liadrin raised her eyebrows, still wondering about the young man who stood in front of her and had walked so confidently towards her. She could recognize the Light in him, shining as bright as he himself seemed to be. Her reserved tone changed when she nodded back to him and took his outstretched hand. “We do indeed, young king.”

Anduin would have gladly talked with her a little bit longer, but other things had brought them here. He turned towards the other two standing beside her.

The troll nodded towards him. “Rokhan. From da Darkspear tribe.”

Anduin eyed him suspiciously. “You are not the one who burned my city, are you?”

Rokhan was for a moment speechless, but then he grunted angrily: “No. Dat be dat Zandalari snake dat...” Too late, he realized that he hadn't only revealed his partaking at the Horde's retrieval party, but also who...

Yet, Anduin smiled slightly again. “I know. I just wanted to check you. My apologies. Your honesty is appreciated, Rokhan.”

Anduin looked at the orc. “You must be Eitrigg, then.”

“I am.” The elder Orc answered, who had watched with astonishment the way the young king had already found an almost personal basis with his Horde comrades.

Lady Liadrin took the word again. “Why are you here, young king? Turalyon? - Aren't we at open war?”

Turalyon shook his head. “We found your buried soldiers in the tunnel of the Drywhisker mine, Liadrin. He -” and here he tilted his head towards Anduin who wasn't quite alright with Turalyon's intervention, “took great care to save them.”

“They all survived and they are being treated right now.” Anduin picked up the High Exarch's thread quickly. “I came here to negotiate with Lady Windrunner herself about their exchange. - Will you deliver her the message to meet me in person?”

“Can I deliver your conditions for the exchange as well?” Liadrin asked, the pragmatist in her already trying to decipher what the Horde would have to pay. Probably giving up the outpost here? The open denial of the young man nonplussed her a bit.

“No.” Anduin sounded determined. “You can tell Lady Windrunner that's between us. - And that I know she's already here.” He pointed backwards. “The little hill between us is called 'High Perch'. I will wait for her there. She has got an hour.”

Then, he nodded his head. “Lady Liadrin. Rokhan. Eitrigg.” The young king mounted his horse and galloped with his escort back to Stromgarde Keep, leaving three quite puzzled Horde members behind.

*

HIGH PERCH, in the afternoon

Exactly an hour later, Anduin had walked out of the gates of Stromgarde, leaving the small lakes left and right that flanked it behind, and headed towards High Perch, a slight elevation in the middle of Stromgarde and Ar'gorok, where he waited. The strong wind was refreshing and made his tabard flap around his armor. Shalaymane, the only weapon he carried and only because Turalyon and Danath Trollbane had insisted upon it, was sheathed on his back. Lady Windrunner's earlier refusal to leave the Horde's outpost to greet him had made him suddenly doubt whether it was the right decision to make her come here - because it wasn't in his nature to force people to do something against their will - but in the Warchief's case, he hadn't given up hope, especially since their intimate talk in the Stockades, to convince her, no matter how long it took, of his perspective on living peacefully side by side on Azeroth. The more often they met, the more often he had a chance to make her trust him more. It was a long shot, he knew it, but it was worth trying.

Standing on top of the wooden walls of Ar'gorok, Sylvanas observed quietly as Anduin waited. He had refused to come by horse and was on foot, much to her suprise. Did he not know how dangerous the situation could become for him? Did he trust her to the point of believing she would not capture him? Her anger intensified. Not only had he the guts to make it an exclusive condition to negotiate with  _her_ , he also succeeded in knowing more about her own faction than herself. He was putting her against a wall. Forcing her to make concessions to save her unit. Making her see just exactly how much control she lacked over the Horde's doings. It all made her quiver in rage. There was still this nagging question of why he had really let her go in Stormwind to top it all and she truly didn't want to be reminded of that. Seeing him standing there made her wish she could leave him to wait even longer. Of course, punctuality was very important among humans, yet she wasn't in the mood to meet him like he had requested her to do.

Anduin had waited for some time when he finally watched the Warchief of the Horde leaving Ar'gorok and coming to meet him. She stopped at some distance which gave him a bit of an uneasy feeling, yet he was glad she had arrived so he greeted her first.

“Lady Windrunner.”

“Had enough beauty sleep?” She was mocking him, obviously. 

The slightest of smiles passed Anduin's face. “Thank you for asking, I'm well.” He could see that her mouth twitched, too.

“What do you want, boy-king?”

“To give you back what's yours, Lady Windrunner? - In case you want it, if not, then we meet here to no avail.”

She stepped closer, the piercing red eyes directed at him. “I was right when I called you a knight in shining armor.”

“I am not a knight...” Of course, he was teased again. That she always knew how to make him react! He took a deep breath. “There's work to be done here.”

Her long, elegant brows rose. “I see. It could be only you to start such a bold adventure.”

Anduin's answer sounded a bit amused. “My bold adventure succeeded in  saving  _all_ your soldiers. And my dwarven miners.”

“Straight to the point, boy-king.”

“Your answer, Warchief?”

“What do you want for my soldiers?”

He just looked at her, his arms, previously behind his back, were folded in front now. Somehow, it was hard to pinpoint her mood. “Are we officially dealing here or is this just a personal question?”

Her reaction was a smirk. “Depends on  _what_ you want, boy-king.”

“What I want?” Anduin couldn't stop an almost impish grin to appear on his face, but then, he shook his head. “You know exactly what I want, Lady Windrunner.”

Her piercing red eyes stayed on him while he waited for her reply.

“You know exactly my answer.”

“I do?”

She reacted angrily to his teasing. “Do not take this as a game, boy-king!”

Would she always take it the wrong way? “I don't, Lady Windrunner. - That's why I am here.” Anduin became serious. “But you were asking after my conditions. I only have two, in fact.”

“I won't give up the outpost here.”

He eyed her. “I know.”

She stepped closer again, only yards away from him now, the brows drawn together in an intimidating frown. “Two?”

“Yes.”

“Name them.”

“Number one: no warfront here in the next three months.”

“And then? We're free to strike again and destroy you?”

“We'll see how this little experiment goes. Deal?” When no answer came, he repeated his last word. “Deal?”

The red eyes glowed. “You are trying to  _deal_ with me? Again? Wasn't the last time sufficient for you?”

“You are lucky, Lady Windrunner, that I'm not in for a _longer_ ceasefire.” Anduin shot back. He frowned. “Especially that I demand no payback for the burning of my city.”

Her derisive laugh followed. His city being set on fire was his sore point? “I'm sure you handled it with the easiness you seem to handle all your problems. The help of your treasured frost mage included. Next time, we won't leave her a choice.”

Anduin's voice turned indignant, his first delight of meeting her completely blown away. “Next time you threaten 'my treasured frost mage' it might cost you more than your freedom.”

“Threatening  _me_?” Sylvanas laughed cruelly. “You underestimate me again, boy-king, and you're going to pay.”

In one move she had drawn her dagger, pointing the silvery short blade directly at the pulsating vein in his neck. Anduin's breath stuck for a moment, but he didn't flinch back. Seeing contradictory emotions battle on his face, Sylvanas smirked.

Anduin's voice sounded husky. “You try my patience.”

She didn't move an inch. “And you try mine  _dangerously_ .”

Another battle of words? He could feel the sudden tension between them again which made him swallow as well as take a shot in the dark. “It is a poorly considered response to blame me for things that had gotten out of your control-” her red eyes flashed but he ignored it because h e could see her struggling, that's why he threw all caution to the wind and let his brash attitude take over , “or did a part of your Horde dare to question its loyalty to you?”

Loyalty? He talked about loyalty? How could he know about how divided the Horde's loyalties were? Sylvanas bristled with anger. She was close to just knocking him down, losing her patience.

“How dare you come to me with 'loyalty'!” She hissed at him, her eyes piercing right through him. For a moment, the pain of the past cut through her. Where had the loyalty been, then? Bitterness crept in her voice. “You haven't even lived long enough to understand such a term, so where did you pick it up? Your father? That puppy? Have you ever been in the position to count on loyalty and be left without?” There was a slight pause, as if she realized what she had said and she went on to seek refuge in threats. “Beg for your miserable life! The Horde will be victorious. And the only thing that's saving you now are my soldiers, the ones you have the gall to keep in your custody. I want them back or else I swear – I swear...”

Anduin winced but didn't shy away from her. The violence of this outburst reminded him painfully of his father. It told him that he had gotten somehow through to her. Yet, he didn't wish the situation to escalate. “Lady Windrunner...” He quickly grabbed her wrist and kept it away from his neck. “Why are you so angry?”

Her eyes only glowed a deeper red when she wrested her arm away from him and stepped back. “I am not.” She snapped while sheathing her dagger. “I am simply done dealing with you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Dealing with  _me_ ? You have no other choice!”

“ _You_ disgust me. You and your petty Alliance. When this is over, I'll fight you till the bloody end.” She sneered and didn't stop. “Do you know what the first thing is I do? Do you know what is that I wait for the most? The look on your face when I would animate your corpse.”

Anduin shook his head. By the Light, she sounded so hostile, so different from the last time they had stood vice versa. “We're not there, yet.” He answered with a hard voice.

She turned around, visibly ringing for her usual icy calm, but an inner force pushed him - sensing her turmoil - to follow her move only to stop a touch away from her back. He felt almost guilty. He was the last one who wanted to watch others suffer. What did he truly know about her intentions? But that was the point. If she only opened up a bit to him...

“Lady Windrunner.” Was he really trying to comfort her? “I may repeat myself but won't you tell me what's wrong? - Besides me provoking you.” He openly admitted.

As an answer, he earned another derisive laugh. “Don't pretend to know me, boy-king.”

She paused. “When I get my soldiers back, we're done here. And we'll see again at the battlefield. Think of my words, boy-king. My work has just begun. Those who stand against us will not stand long. And I will slaughter anyone who stands in my way. - Including  _you_ .”

And they were back at this. The beginning. The same old platitudes. Anduin felt the emotions in him simmer, but he gritted his teeth and remained controlled.

“Now is not a time for that – but you'll get your people back, as I said.” He replied slowly and added, more gently: “Isn't this what we are both here for?”

Sylvanas was grateful for the change of subject, although she didn't let it on. She finally turned back to him, surprised to find him standing so close to her but she didn't retreat. “So since we are again at  the _dealing_ part, you might want to tell me how Saurfang is doing.”

Anduin was surprised for a moment but caught himself quick. “How he's doing?”

Did the Warchief of the Horde  _not_ know that he had escaped too? Wait – hadn't he been with them? Obviously not. And if not, why?

Sylvanas shot him an inscrutable glance. “I see. He likes your company. Send him my greetings.”

Anduin nodded. “I will, when I meet him.”

A diplomatic answer, yet, what was going on that even the Warchief of the Horde was not informed about his escape? Where had Saurfang gone to, on his own? Reminded of the orc who had stayed behind in the ruins of Lordaeron and their short talk about honor, he was inclined to believe that Saurfang and Lady Windrunner had had a discussion about honor, too – and the orc hadn't been content with her arguments. He allowed himself to smirk. “What should I tell him in case he asks me what will happen now?”

“Your good-natured heart won't let him go?”

“What if I tell you he likes to stay where he is now?”

She snorted. “I can't imagine. - Although, surrounded by so much honor, I'm certain he feels  _more_ than comfortable.”

While the information confirmed his speculation, Anduin was reminded of him proving his trustworthiness to her. Light, his honesty wasn't doing him a favor here but he had been serious - while speaking to Turalyon - about winning her over for a higher purpose. Especially after watching her reaction to the term 'loyalty'.

“Lady Windrunner.” To prevent her from further queries, Anduin shook his head and enunciated his words very clearly to avoid misunderstandings. “He's not in the Stockades anymore. He escaped alongside with you.”

That information made her silent. Red eyes glowing at him. Doubting?

“I said before you'd better not play with me, young king.”

He knew her tone all too well. “I am not, Lady Windrunner. - You should know that by now.”

Sylvanas was quiet for a long moment, digesting that information. Was it important to her that Saurfang had made off? No. It was more important to her that she had gotten an honest answer. From  _him_ . He could've stayed silent about this. Which he didn't. Why? Why did he always act like others did not? Rising another disconcerting thought of how she should battle him when all she ever gained from him was nothing but some kind of seriousness, of honesty, of willingness to deal with her, of... of  _loyalty,_ she wondered and gritted her teeth in anger. The point was, he irritated her permanently with his readiness to take risks but at the same time he always told her the truth. It didn't matter if it were helpful or not. If she were to trust him... If she were to risk it all on this gamble, on this silliness, this idea that both factions could share a world then - No. She stopped her train of thought right there.

“There was a second condition, boy-king.”

“Yes.” Anduin nodded. It had been just a quick decision to raise the numbers - and he hadn't really thought it through - but there was a pull in him that wanted to provoke her further.

“And...?” She frowned.

He was bold, he knew it. “Six hours.”

The eyebrows continued to be raised. “Six hours?”

“Just you and me.”

Sylvanas was – for a moment – speechless, but found back to her mocking attitude.

“If you wanted a date with me, you could've just asked. You didn't need to _save_ someone for it.”

Anduin grinned cautiously. “Maybe this is just after my taste. You know, me being the knight in shining armor and so on.”

She kept glaring at him. How dare he! How dare he tried to lure her in...

“You must've really felt _comfortable_ around me.”

“I still do. Somehow.” He admitted in all honesty again.

Hell why was he always so open minded? And truthful?

“Am I still your dirty little secret?”

He blushed. There was a reaction on  _his_ side, this time. “Little secret?”

“I'm sure you kept silent about visiting me in the middle of the night.”

“And if I did?”

“I wanted to make sure you are not losing any more sleep than necessary.”

“Worrying about me? How nice.”

“More about having a rested opponent on the battlefield in three months.”

“You'd like to face me there again?” 

Since they were already so close, she almost touched him while leaning forward. “You don't know how much.” She teased him but he wasn't sure if it was really a tease.

“I won't ask again. What is the second condition?”

Anduin remained stubborn. How did she call it? A date? “Six hours.”

“...you mean to release my soldiers finally?”

It bothered him again that she didn't take him seriously enough.

“Before we get to the 'release' there's another thing I would like to talk about.”

“There's nothing to talk about, young king.”

“I tend to disagree, Lady Windrunner.”

Hell, not this whole topic of peace again? She wasn't anywhere near the mood of discussing things with him. For hours. And hours. “What for? To hear me telling you again that you and your petty followers will lose?”

“I've heard that before, Lady Windrunner. But that's not the issue here, as you well know.”

“So what do we have to talk about, then, if not a glorious 'how to achieve peace'...”

Mocking him again and again, Anduin's temper grew. His blue eyes were flashing.

“You – as the Warchief of the Horde – should better encourage your men to act under orders. So we might avoid another diplomatic incident like this in the future.”

“You will not lecture me, boy-king.”

“Far from it, dear Warchief.” Anduin couldn't resist a bit of sarcasm. “Knowing that you have everything under control, I am merely here to remind you to better stick to your given rules.” 

“Daring to pose an ultimatum?”

“Don't you like such things? In explicit terms: This is Alliance's territory you've trespassed.”

“ _This_ will be ours again.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Right now? It is none of that. The next time this happens, I might think differently.”

“Really? Then, the answer is war and war? Despite this being already a time of action?”

Anduin was forced to shake his head. “Not here, remember? Three months. If you don't-”

“Then what?” She looked him in the eyes, liking way too much to intimidate him.

Red eyes met blue ones. And in that moment, the same tension, the mixed feelings, all that had been present in that night in the cell returned to Anduin. For a moment, he maintained the intense look and allowed himself to be thrilled.

“Then you _owe_ me six hours, Warchief.” Was his husky answer while he withdrew from her.

Her laugh changed from derisive to sassy. “Is the young king threatening me once more? Having the backbone to act afterwards?”

He eyed her. “It's not so much my backbone, Lady Windrunner, as your courage that's asked here. Are you that courageous? I thought we are speaking about saving your troops.”

Her red eyes pierced through him. “Of course.”

He nodded. “Then we both have a deal.”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. No. He would not have the last word on this. “A deal? I didn't give my consent to this.”

“Too late.” Was his laconic comment, risking quite a bit with his next words. “You know, trust works _both_ ways, Lady Windrunner. - Expect the return of your soldiers in the next hour.”

“I swear, one day you will stand in front of a Horde council and answer for your actions...”

To her surprise, his humor was back. He grinned. “You would let me?”

Too late, she realized that she had perhaps missed the target and underestimated his willingness to weather all situations – indifferent to what kind of obstacles were thrown in his way. It couldn't be his dream... to take part in this? No way. Or was she mistaken?

“Not this day.” She turned around and left him, her coat flapping behind her.

“I'm here whenever you change your mind.” He called after her.

Anduin could hear her snort although the distance between them grew, and allowed his grin to broaden. He waited until she reached Ar'gorok, safe and sound, then he turned and walked back to Stromgarde Keep.


	5. deciding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N**  
>  You all make me want to write faster, but RL has other ways. Besides, every time I try to adapt my story to BfA's story line, Blizzard throws stones in my way. But the last cinematic of the Battle for Lordaeron was overwhelming - the way Sylvanas swayed up to Anduin was exactly like I always pictured in my mind!
> 
> Thank you, _Windcage_ , for everything. You are a sweetheart!

 

BACK IN STORMWIND

After leaving Stromgarde the next day early morning, Anduin returned to Stormwind and his duties. He was busy the whole day and still sitting on his father's desk when Mathias Shaw entered. Anduin saw amazed that the beginning of twilight outside the Keep's thick stone walls already casted long shadows. Unsurprisingly, his spymaster had come to learn more details about the Drywhisker's mine incident.

“How did it go in Stromgarde, your majesty?”

“As expected.” Anduin answered while he continued working.

Shaw was quiet for a moment. “Your majesty might want to know that there has been a troop withdrawal in Ar'gorok today.”

These news made Anduin look up.

“Besides,” Shaw went on, “Lady Liadrin and the Darkspear troll left.”

So. _She_ had kept her part of the deal. “Eitrigg remained?”

“If you are speaking of the Orc in command, then yes, your majesty.”

“I'm certain you will inform me first of all if something changes in the Horde's outpost, Spymaster.” Anduin replied. Then, did he have his six hours, which he doubted she would ever agree to?

Shaw shook his head. “Your majesty won't tell me what else of importance was agreed on between himself and the Warchief of the Horde?”

Anduin entertained the idea that his Master of Spies would have loved to eavesdrop on the talk at High Perch, yet this was private and none of his business. To distract him, he asked: “Do you have news from Genn or Jaina, Spymaster?”

“Yes, and I'm afraid they aren't the best. Master Greymane is currently trying to clarify the situation in Kul Tiras. It seems Lady Jaina Proudmoore was imprisoned as soon as she set foot on her native soil...”

“You are telling me she wasn't welcomed by her own mother?” Anduin interrupted him, trying to sound objective, but inwardly he reeled, seeing his greatest fears come true.

“Lady Katherine Proudmoore was obviously convinced by Lady Ashvane to brand Lady Jaina Proudmoore as a traitor and sent her immediately into exile.”

“Exile?” Echoed Anduin, shaking his head.

Shaw nodded. “Even our champion who accompanied her was thrown into the prison of Tol Dagor, but made an escape. It is clear, your majesty, that the nation of Kul Tiras is in disarray.”

“Hopefully our emissary can show that Kul Tiras needs the Alliance as much as the Alliance needs their navy.” Anduin sighed. “And who is this Lady Ashvane, if I may ask?”

“Lady Priscilla Ashvane is the head of House Ashvane and the Ashvane Trading Company, an old friend of Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore. She lost her husband at Theramore at the same time as Lady Katherine did her husband, Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore. It is said that she hated Lady Jaina Proudmoore for her role in the Kul Tirans' deaths.”

“That would explain at least why Jaina is labeled as a traitor and facing judgement.” Anduin commented.

Shaw nodded again. “As I said, Master Greymane is trying to clarify the situation. He's in contact with our champion and has help from Cyrus Crestfall, the Harbormaster of Boralus as well as others, I was told.”

“I see.” Anduin looked down at the desk, obviously thinking of something, which gave Shaw the possibility to speak of something else.

“We – I – might have another problem at hand.”

“I'm barely here and you are informing me of another problem?”

“We lost... one of our young soldiers.”

Anduin pressed his fingertips at the temples. “I'm listening.”

“The mother does live here in Stormwind and came to me personally after she was told that he was missing in action. She didn't leave before I persuaded her that I would talk to you in person about this incident.”

“Then tell me.”

Shaw sighed. “He's her youngest son. Private James is his name. He was last seen in Vol'dun, which is a zone of Zandalar.”

“I ordered men from the 7thLegion to travel to Kul Tiras with Genn Greymane to ensure that Jaina's mission of getting the Kul Tirans to rejoin the Alliance is successful.”

“Yes,” Shaw picked up his thread, “they are under High Commander Halford Wrymbane's command and work to secure the Alliance's position not only on Kul Tiras, but on Zandalar, too.”

“Alright.” Anduin sighed. “What can we do...?”

“With your majesty's permission, I wanted to ask Commander Wrymbane to spare more men and send them over to Zandalar.”

“More men to lose?”

“To get this one saved for his mother, yes, your majesty.”

“Of course. - And hopefully he won't be the last we save.”

Mathias Shaw darted a quizzical glance at Anduin. “May I ask your majesty why... you decided to save the Horde soldiers?”

Anduin wasn't willing to share more details than necessary, but after a slight hesitation, he answered. “An opportunity presented itself and I made the best with what it gave me, Spymaster.” Anduin looked up at him. “And as you know best, I try to avoid bloodshed whenever I can. In saving the Horde soldiers, I spared Danath Trollbane a warfront – and all that it entails.”

“For a while, your majesty. War will come when the time is up.” Shaw added, unblinking. “You are aware that the Warchief of the Horde is not to be underestimated.”

“I am.” Anduin conceded, knowing very well that his Spymaster was about to join Genn and Jaina and Turalyon in lecturing him. “I am.”

How could he only break it to others gently that he had gotten a chance to get to know another side of _her_? A side, he strongly believed, could be swayed, if given time? And might change the current situation?

“You won't get her to peace, your majesty. - My intelligence already told me...” Shaw stopped, realizing that the young king was in deep thoughts and didn't listen. He cleared his throat. “Off the record?”

This remark brought him Anduin's attention back.

“I don't know why you keep thinking she can be reasoned with, your majesty. You are far too kind.”

Shaw shook his head and focused on the young king who looked away, wearing an almost stubborn expression. Once in a while, the young man was a mystery to him. His father, always straightforward and active, had been much easier to be seen through than his son. A boy that from early childhood had learned the value of hiding his hand and keeping his intentions and kindness hidden in the shadows. In another time it might have been different, but in war the young man's kindness was little but an hindrance.

“May I suggest, your majesty, that we start retaliation measures, too? - I have prepared a list of priority Horde targets who are currently in Zandalar...”

Anduin was suddenly quick to stand up and to step towards him, taking the list out of Shaw's hands while he skimmed over it. He paled a bit when reading the names in knowing he would subscribe their death – and stopped short. _This_ was the ugly side of war.

“Who is Ranger Captain Areiel?”

Shaw hesitated, but responded. “She's a Forsaken dark ranger and was observed to stay in Nazmir to oversee Horde's operations. I would like to set Shandris Feathermoon, the General of the Sentinel Army, and John J. Keeshan at the whole task.”

“And she's the Captain of the Warchief's dark rangers?”

“As far as I know, yes.” Shaw nodded, a bit curious about the young king's inquiry. “Which means by killing her we will cripple Horde operations.”

By the Light, Anduin thought. How will she react once she gets to know  _we_ murdered her? He knew the dark rangers were the closest to Lady Windrunner than family could be. Remembering Turalyon's portrayal of the meeting of the three Windrunner sisters, the way she had called her elder sister rude – but still 'sister' - when meeting her in the Throne Room of Lordaeron, made his stomach turn. Light, no. The dark rangers where all she had left. They were her personal bodyguards. Her elite agents, deadliest fighters and scouts. Could this war get even worse? Again, he was torn apart. But in rescuing her dark ranger, maybe, he could reinstate the trust issue? Could merit recognition? - Anduin, there is no point in pretending, he told himself. She wouldn't do anything like that for you. _But he was not her_. Determined, he turned around.

“Spymaster Shaw, we'll sail the day after tomorrow when I have sorted out the matters here in Stormwind. To Boralus, first.”

Mathias Shaw was well aware of the resolute expression of the young king – and wondered about it, as he did about the order. He was certain that Anduin wanted to check on Master Greymane and Lady Jaina Proudmoore. Then? That he couldn't answer the question was almost alarming.

“And second?”

But Anduin was already out of the door.

*

BACK IN ORGRIMMAR

When Sylvanas returned to Grommash Hold, she was still angry about the incident at the Arathi Highlands – for a second time, now - and the young king – how dare he...!

However, she was pretty certain that her speech had even made every single soldier in Ar'gorok understood that she and her orders were not to be taken lightly in the future.

Eitrigg's face when she had told him that Saurfang was missing in action had been priceless. She also expected him to pay more attention to the developments both in and around Ar'gorok and Stromgarde and had ensured he did this time. Three months to wait before they could bring Stromgarde down. Anger rose again. No. It wasn't the only warfront. If only her very first carefully planned attack had succeeded and Saurfang had gotten through with his strategy – and where might he be now, that Orc of honor? Had her thoughts been a foreshadowing, that honor and the Horde were all Saurfang had left and that she did not know what he would do if either were taken from him? He hadn't even stayed in the Stockades, surrounded at least by the enemy's honor! And if only the boy-king hadn't been so eager to step in her way... It wouldn't do to think gloomy thoughts.

Besides, she waited for news from Nathanos on how the Alliance's doings passed off in Kul Tiras and what could be done. Perhaps there, she thought fiercely, I have a chance to battle the young king. She waited too for news from Zuldazar, when the Zandalari trolls finally pledged their loyalty to the Horde. It was about time they did! She had ordered Rokhan to return there and explained to him that she expected him to replace Baine. It was better to have the tauren close to her, under her reign, where she could keep an eye on him after Saurfang's disappearance.

Baine also knew the young king much better than her, and for a moment, she was almost inclined to ask after him. But it wouldn't be possible without raising suspicions. In the end, he would likely tell her what she already knew: that the boy-king was a peace-loving angel – when it suited him. Yet, he had _thorns_ if one was not careful enough. So how should she cope with him? His two conditions were still on her mind.

Such boldness – although he had not insisted on the second condition. But an inner voice told her, he would. One day. For sure. If she had learned one thing about him now, it was that he never made empty threats. He meant what he said. At least, a part of his father - Varian Wrynn - he had in him? He will need it, she mused, when _we_ meet again.

*

ARRIVING AT BORALUS, two days later

The wind freshened up and the horizon was darkened by big, grey and almost black clouds. The Alliance battleship made its way steady through the waves; the blue sails were blowing and they gained visibly speed. They had left Stormwind Harbor in the early morning surprisingly not in rainy and gloomy weather, but in sunshine. However, upon nearing Kul Tiras, everything changed.

“This weather front does not look good, Grand Marshal.”

Grand Marshal Tremblade, current captain of the Alliance navy's battleship 'Wind's Redemption', shook her head.

“No, it doesn't.”

After careful weighing she added: “We're only taking the topsails down in case the wind gets stormier, Lieutenant. Wait for my command. There's a big chance we can reach the harbor of Tiragarde Sound, Boralus Port, first. I'm more worried about pirates, to be honest.”

“Shall I inform His Majesty Anduin Wrynn, King of Stormwind, of the new situation, Grand Marshal?”

Tremblade shook her head again, looking over to the main deck where the young king stood a little distance away from his Lion's Guard, alone and staring at the horizon.

“No need to ruffle the feathers now, Lieutenant. There will be enough time when it comes to the worst. So far, we may escape this storm, if we're fast enough.”

“Yes, Grand Marshal.”

The King himself, who stood quietly on the main deck of the ship had indeed his thoughts somewhere else, having time to recap things concerning the Warchief of the Horde.

If he were honest with himself, he would admit that she catapulted him constantly in self-doubts and bewilderment. Not to speak of the tension that was always there when they met and let him falter between thrills and defiance.

He didn't know why, but the memories that were still playing in his mind from the Battle for Lordaeron, the first one he had been heading into upfront, came up. Meeting the brutality and horror of war. How he had won a city, only to lose it immediately afterwards. And confronting _her_ in the Throne Room. Anduin had known that she was cunning – arrogant, too, to a certain extent. Driven. But he had never expected her pragmatic ruthlessness. She blew up her own city! Before he was able to catch her. And in retrospective, he wasn't even certain if  _that_ hadn't been her plan all along.

And then there was Teldrassil. There was also no strategic purpose, no possible reason to destroy the Night Elves' tree – but he better not put the finger on this issue. Bad dreams still haunted him. Not only related to this, but then experiencing how his home, his own city was halfway burned down because the Horde had sent a retrieving party. That had not only freed its leader but gone around collecting other prisoners along the way. He had a hard time tempering his rage when he thought of all of the recent incidents. Only having heard it from Jaina that _she_ , at least, was not to blame for the fire in Stormwind made it easier to simmer down.

 _Yet_ \- when they had their battle of words in the Stockades, she had been a bit open to a discussion. She hadn't killed him, although he had given her the option. Multiple times now, to be honest. She had, on a basic approach, defended herself, and repeatedly argued that she didn't trust the Alliance. Which included not acknowledging him as an opponent to be taken seriously, thinking him incapable of managing politics and the Alliance in general as a faction. To have the Alliance falling apart would've brought the Horde clear advantages. Maybe this was what she had been aiming for with burning Teldrassil? To split the Alliance? People were easier to conquer when they were divided. He had first thought she had wanted to control the flows of Azerite. If that had been the case it would've made sense to take hostages, but not burning the entire tree. Had he ever given the impression he wanted to launch a war on the Horde? Anduin shook his head. Her outright mistrust towards _all_ concerning the Alliance came from experience, unfortunately.

 _He_ should've talked considerably earlier with her, especially after the Gathering where it had all gone wrong. After meeting her at High Perch, he had also visited the Forsaken graveyard which was located near the Highlands Mill. He noticed that votive candles burned on some of the graves, pausing longer at Elsie “Vellcinda” Benton's tomb, the wife of his elderly servant Wyll Benton who was dead, too. He prayed they were reunited, at last, and comforted himself with the fact that it was a drop in the ocean.

The event, although historic, was surely another point where she possibly assumed that the Alliance – he – wanted nothing else than to undermine her authority, bringing an usurper 'intentionally' with him. Anduin groaned inwardly, a sort of grim humor taking over his mind as he stared blindly at the storm front. There were so many issues outstanding. He wondered if there would be time in the six hours - once he got them - to address it all.

So how was he to balance war on the one hand and the meetings with her on the other hand? Should he separate those two? Should he stop trying to juggle everything and accept what everyone seemed so bent on hammering into his head? That Lady Windrunner was beyond help? That there wouldn't be peace, not with her? Never give up hope, he admonished himself. Never. Try as long as you can. And _try_ , he would. Not neglect any opportunity to convince her that peace was a better option, and not, as she seemed to believe, something he uphold when it better suited him.

Otherwise, he had to face this. Great losses and small victories, like the one in Stromgarde, where he had accomplished to get Danath Trollbane a bit time to prepare himself. And he would at least fight to save her Captain, that he swore. There _must_ be an angle where he was able to reach her. He only needed to find it. In time.

He thought back to the Battle for Lordaeron, mixed feelings all over again, confused of her atrocities. _Why_? Why? She would've had the world in her hand, if she only wanted it! But perhaps this was the point. Again and again he returned to the issue that he needed to understand her motives to understand her. Concerning Lordaeron, he was inclined to think he had her cornered, something she didn't like at all. Being a hunter, it was no wonder. No, he didn't want to excuse her. He was angry at himself that she got him so confused.

The first heavy raindrops interrupted his depressing train of thought.Anduin stared at the weather front, clouds as grey as his mood, wondering what news awaited him in Kul Tiras. When would all of this come to an end? He longed for peace. It cemented his belief that his only chance laid in winning the Warchief's trust.

The Alliance ship continued to sail easily and fast along the shores of Tiragarde Sound, pushed by the freshened up wind, only to finally pass in the river where Boralus, the capital city of Kul Tiras, was located on its mouth. A beautiful and breathtaking mountainous view opened in front of them. The impressive round Great Gate – a big metal anchor filled with wood – marked the entrance. It was closed. Beyond it lied the city, with very few outsiders allowed inside. Built in a heavily maritime-influenced architecture, it left a poignant impression of the naval tradition that governed this part of Azeroth. The outer walls hosted a marketplace that was second to none. Merchants from all over Azeroth docked here to trade their goods which gave it a busy appearance.

Grand Marshal Tremblade saw where the other Alliance's ship was tied to the landing stage and steered the 'Wind's Redemption' safely next to the 'Flame of Hope'. Anduin who didn't want to step into the middle of the negotiations had advised Shaw to contact Genn as soon as they stopped at the port and to bring him to the ship. Their talk should take place without further announcement of Anduin's visit so it remained unofficial. He didn't want to get Jaina in more trouble than she already was in.

It didn't take long for Shaw to find Master Greymane, who spent a lot of time in the bureau of the Harbormaster Cyrus Crestfall. Genn looked serious upon entering the officers' mess on the 'Wind's Redemption' and with Anduin coming here unannounced, but changed his attitude when Anduin expressed his worries. Yet, the young king sensed that the elder Worgen still held a grudge against him. By the Light, Anduin thought, I hope he never finds out what else I am going to do, and turned his attention to the conversation.

“There are problems with the Ashvane Trading Company, my king. But I'm on it.” Genn turned towards Mathias Shaw. “It is an organization with notably poor working conditions. I learned that they are smuggling illegal weapons to the pirate city of Freehold. Lady Ashvane also made an attack at Daelin's Gate, and when our champion confronted her at Unity Square, she fired a pistol at Katherine before escaping via horseback through Boralus. Fortunately, Katherine was not injured.”

“I heard of some rumors, Master Greymane, but they were never confirmed.” Shaw replied in earnest.

Genn continued. “Katherine has trusted Lady Ashvane as an advisor and a close friend for many years - even before they both lost their husbands at Theramore. She's heard the rumors about Ashvane, just like anyone. Whether by fear or loyalty, she's chosen to ignore them. It's time to finally open her eyes.”

“Which I'm sure of you will be able to do.” Anduin smiled towards him, seeing his trust in Genn confirmed and his hope of getting these two parents, who had both lost their sons, connected, rekindled by the way Genn was using first names. He was glad to realize that the Worgen's experience and guidance was indeed needed here.

“I'm going to talk to her, my king, and try to convince her to look after Jaina and perhaps I get her to talk to the Alliance at a later point.”

Anduin nodded. “I know, Genn. Thank you. I'll come back later when an official meeting with the High King of the Alliance is required.”

This seemed to make Genn pay attention in general. “How come you're here, then, Anduin?”

Anduin sighed. “One of our soldiers got lost, his mother, who lives in Stormwind, brought it to my attention. It so happens that Halford Wrymbane, the High Commander of the 7 th Legion is here. I need to talk to him to have important measures taken.”

Genn was forced to bid farewell when someone of the Crestfall's office queried after him. “I need to go back. I wish you luck. Safe travels, my king.”

Anduin gave him a small smile. “Good luck to you, too, Genn.”

His look followed the Worgen just as Wrymbane himself entered and bowed shortly. “King Wrynn.”

Anduin stepped towards him. “High Commander Halford Wrymbane, good to see you.” He paused for a moment. “My duties brought me here. I am trying to save a young man, his name is Private James, who was last seen on Vol'dun.”

“I know of whom you're speaking, King Wrynn.”

“You do? - So you might be able to tell me more about where and when he got lost?”

“Sergeant Ermey had orders to establish a foothold in Vol'dun, a zone of Zandalar, which he did by securing Shatterstone Harbor for the Alliance, but circumstances not foreseen forced them to fight before they were successful. According to the reports, Private James... was captured and is missing in action right now.”

“So we only need to send more soldiers over there to secure the area and search for him?”

“Generally speaking, yes, King Wrynn.”

“Which means it won't take long. I brought supplies with me. How many 7thLegion soldiers can you spare, High Commander?”

“A troop can be ready – but why do you ask, King Wrynn? I'll take care...”

“No,” Anduin interrupted him, “I will _personally_ guarantee that Private James comes back with me. I need to get him back to his mother and he will follow his king's order.”

There was a moment of an uncomfortable silence. Mathias Shaw spoke first, suspecting that _this_ had been the King's second reason to set sail.

“But this is Horde territory, your majesty.”

“King Wrynn, this is much too dangerous...”

Anduin ignored the objections. “You just told me, High Commander, that we have a harbor over there, so not all of it is Horde's territory. Right now it is Zandalari territory.” He smiled one of his convincing smiles. “Besides, I have enough men with me to stay safe. And the Light.”

Wrymbane, who was always inspired by faith and dedication, which the young king possessed, and knew also that the young king was an excellent Light-wielder himself, gave in upon recognizing the seriousness in Anduin's words.

“King Wrynn. Then I am coming with you.”

Yet, the young king denied the offer because he didn't need any more witnesses to this mission. He turned at the same moment to his spymaster.

“Master Shaw, you're needed here, too. - No, this is an order from your King! The High Commander is to direct the Alliance's operations to secure our position, here and on Zandalar. For situations that require a more subtle approach, you and your SI:7 operatives are essential here as well. I am confident that everything is in the right hands. - I'll take the ship and return shortly.”

Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth, who had stood in the background and talked to Grand Marshal Tremblade at the same time, suddenly stepped forward.

“I know Zandalar from my own experience. I will escort your majesty. - Grand Marshal Tremblade will stay here at the 'Flame of Hope', in the meantime. We just spoke about it.”

Anduin nodded towards Jes-Tereth. “I accept your offer gladly, Grand-Admiral.”

After this, Wrymbane agreed. “Light be with you, King Wrynn.”

Anduin knew, he hadn't given any of the men a choice, but he was determined to sail over to Zandalar by himself so he made sure they left the ship – while still taken by surprise - with their men and went over to the 'Flame of Hope' to help Genn and his emissary.

Seconds later, Anduin stood beside the steering wheel of the 'Wind's Redemption'.

“Grand Admiral Jes-Tereth.”

“This ship is yours to command, your majesty, I have the crew already prepared for any eventuality.”

“Our first stop is Vol'dun's Shatterstone Harbor in Zandalar, Grand Admiral. Let us save a young soldier quick because then, I'm needed in Nazmir.”

“I'll make the ship fly, your majesty!” Jes-Tereth answered. This was to her taste, and it took her not long to heave the vessel and leave Boralus Port under sail.

Yes, Anduin thought, let's hope this goes according to my plan. That I'm not too late. Neither for Private James nor for Ranger Captain Areiel.

*

VOL'DUN

Jes-Tereth had kept her word: the 'Wind's Redemption' had sailed full speed to Zandalar. However, still having far too present the fate of the eight Alliance's vessels that had sunk while in pursuit of the Zandalari's princess, Jes-Tereth kept a safe distance from the island and in so doing deprived Anduin from seeing much of Zuldazar, the beautiful golden capital temple city of the Zandalari empire as well as the jewel of all troll civilizations. Anduin knew that of the old cities of Azeroth this was the last still standing, so he used the ship's telescope to get at least a glimpse of the series of giant ziggurats that looked like a towering mountain from a distance. His curiosity to see new places was awakened and he was looking forward to the other famous island's regions, Vol'dun and Nazmir.

When they finally arrived at Shatterstone Harbor, the Alliance's harbor in Vol'dun, he had also taken a nap, and it was already early afternoon when he came to stand on the main deck besides Grand Admiral Jes-Tereth and called both men from the 7 th Legion and his Lion's Guards to his side.

When they arrived at the terrace, they were greeted by Sergeant Ermey and his men who had taken residence there. From there, stairs directly led into the desert between some ancient decayed buildings. The heat had reached its highest level and Anduin had already taken off his distinctive armor and wore only light clothes underneath his royal overcoat, his sword sheathed at his back. Sergeant Ermey, the leader of the small party that also took Shatterstone Harbor, was very glad to hear he had now orders from the highest instance to search for his missing comrade.

“I'll be out hunting for leads on James immediately, your majesty. I wasn't going to let him stay in the clutches of those slippery bastards, but I had to take care of my men here.”

Anduin smiled towards him. “I understand. But now you have the king's order to back you up. I'll be coming with you as are some of the 7 th Legion soldiers. The rest stays here until we're back.”

Ermey nodded. “We should keep to small numbers, your majesty. Here, in the desert, too many men are an obstacle. Besides, I know Vol'dun like the back of my hand.”

The young king's smile stayed. It seemed he had found in Sergeant Ermey not only an honorable man but the right companion for this endeavor. “Let's start.”

They didn't need to get far away before Ermey found a lead, something for which Anduin was grateful for. The climate in Kul Tiras had been almost cold, and to be thrown now in a baking oven here in Vol'dun after the cool and comfortable winds on sea was like going from the ice pool to the sauna.

“This snake man knows where Private James was taken, your majesty!” Ermey told him excitedly when he joined the Sergeant. “I was shadowing those snake men from time to time, when I saw this one now left for dead beside the trail.”

The sergeant shook his head. “I don't think this one is like the others, looks like they roughed him up pretty bad. - I made contact and before it passed out it said it knew where our man was being taken! How lucky we are! We need to find out what this thing knows! I'll need to make a salve for these wounds. There's some cactus I saw growing around here that should make a good base for it... sorry, your majesty, I can't rest knowing one of my men is still out there.” Ermey seemed to be the type of man whose nerves got him talking.

“Wait.” Anduin held him back and kneeled beside the snake man, already calling the Light and healing the wounds, but then he stopped.

“This man is also poisoned.” The young king removed a needle-like barb and held it high.

Sergeant Ermey nodded. “This needle-like barb looks like it came from one of those giant insects wandering about in the bottom of the gulch. I'll bet my stripes it's poisoned. You know what they say, that which kills can also cure, your majesty. I'll get a few more of these barbs, I bet if I mix it in with that cactus we will get a good anti venom to treat his wounds. - This power of his is really useful. Was this learned? Or was it born with him?”

Anduin smiled at the eagerness of the young soldier. “I'll stay here with him.”

It didn't take the Sergeant long to return.

“The antidote is ready. It smells like death and tastes worse but it should be potent enough, let's just hope that we're not too late for it to do any good.”

After Anduin had administered the anti venom, the snake man recovered visibly, looking at the two young men who were bending over him.

“Ah – my strength is returning. Thank you, strangers. I'm -”

“- afraid we don't have the time for an introduction. We are looking for one of our own. A young Private James. Have you any information about his whereabouts?” Ermey interrupted him.

The snake man paused, eyes running over their expressions. “Yes. Your friend is held captive by the faithless. Don't worry, my people will be happy to aid you in return for your kindness to me.” Having said this, he called for his tamed Pterrordax, a flying dinosaur who came by immediately.

Anduin couldn't help but get infected by Ermey's excitement. This was an adventure, indeed!

The snake man bowed before them. “My name is Vorrik. Together we shall find where your 'James' was taken. Before I was cast aside I gave him something to protect, something most precious. Naturally, I would also like to see your friend's safe return.”

And with this, he mounted his Pterrordax. And Anduin and Ermey jumped on behind him, leaving the rest of their men behind.

The flight was overwhelming. To see the beautiful desert spread beneath him and to enjoy the perspective from the air was something completely different from the things Anduin was forced to do everyday. It couldn't get better! He lent only half an ear to the snake man's tale, but was confident that Ermey listened.

“Our temple is the last bastion against the Faithless.” Vorrik told them. “Long ago, we lived as one. Korthek, Sulthis, and I led our people in harmony. We were entrusted by our 'loa' to protect the three keys which sealed away an ancient and evil power beneath the sands. But we were betrayed. Korthek desired power and turned his back on our ancient traditions. Sulthis was slain, but his key was hidden. Now Korthek and his followers, the Faithless, hunt for mine. Had they searched me when I was captured they would have surely found it, but when they finally searched me I had already secretly hidden it somewhere they would not expect, because I stuck it into the pocket of a prisoner they had just captured. I believe he called himself 'James'. It's imperative for us all that the key remain out of Korthek's hands. Come, our temple is ahead.”

For Anduin, the flight on the dinosaur's back could've been longer, but he, like Ermey, was jolted from the peaceful trip when Vorrik shouted: “Oh no, the Faithless are attacking the temple. Friends, I know we just met but I must ask for your aid once more. Please, help us break their ranks. - I'll stay here and tend to the defenses. Thank you again!”

After a short landing, Ermey and the young king found themselves immediately in a fight. Anduin unsheathed Shalaymane, glad about having taken his father's sword with him and the Sergeant readied his sword. They stayed side by side while fighting other snake men on the Terraces of the Devoted, as the place was called, when suddenly Ermey cried out, having recognized Private James in a cage the foreign snake men had with them and freed him. They must be some kind of a mobile battalion, Ermey assumed.

Private James shouted, too, upon recognizing the Sergeant. “It's... Ermey, thank the Light! I'll head to the temple. It's not safe out here.”

Ermey nodded. “It is now, but we will accompany you.”

While they were walking back into the temple to find Vorrik, Private James spoke again to the both of them. “I can't believe you and the sarge went to such effort to rescue me! I'm... I'm speechless... thank you!”

Anduin hadn't told him yet who he really was, and neither had Ermey, so they just climbed up the stairs and met Vorrik in the upper sanctuary.

The snake man smiled upon seeing them. “It's good to see that your companion is back unharmed. But more importantly, let's see if he still has my stone hidden in his pockets.”

Private James nodded and answered. “I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you and the sarge. Thanks again. - Oh, there's some sort of stone in there.”

“That's not just a stone, it's a key.” Vorrik replied. “It is one of a set used to contain a great and terrible power. - Long ago, before the sands, began to spread, a monstrous C'Thraxxi warbringer descended upon our lands. He began to slaughter all in his path...” As he told his story, they were following him to the top of the temple. There, Vorrik thanked them again.

Sergeant Ermey turned serious. “This is dire news. We better go report this to the High Commander. - Let's get moving.”

Private James walked immediately beside him. Anduin followed, very amused about the fact that they had completely forgotten that their King was also present.

“Sergeant... thanks for coming after me... sir.”

Ermey reacted indignant. “Private James. Didn't your parents give you enough attention as a child? Why are you wasting my time in chasing your butt all over lands unknown?”

It was obvious that the Private was downcast. “Sir, I... I'll do better, sir.”

The sergeant shook his head. “You better square yourself away, private.”

Then, he stopped. “Besides, you better plead your case to our King. - Your majesty, I am sorry that I...”

Anduin caught up with the men who obviously liked each other despite their quarrel. “No need, sergeant Ermey. I had a refreshing different afternoon here.”

Private James stared agape at the third man of the bunch. “You are... you are... King Wrynn?”

“I am.” Anduin confirmed. “And I am also here to take you back to Stormwind to your mother.”

While they talked, they made their way back to Shatterstone Harbor, Ermey knowing the shortest way. Dawn had arrived and the dimmed light dipped the desert in magic colors.

Private James picked up the thread. “Home, your majesty?”

“Yes.”

“I won't leave my unit...”

“I am sorry, Private James, but this is an order. King's order.” Anduin added.

“But...”

“Come on.” Ermey comforted him. “Stormwind has better weather conditions.”

Anduin had to smirk. It was a faint comfort, but it was at least one. “Perhaps you get another chance after some time at home.” He told the young man.

“King's order?” Private James was quick to query.

Ermey laughed. “If you are on one's good behavior...”

Before Anduin returned to the ship, Ermey held him back.

“Your majesty, we are preparing a farewell party for Private James tomorrow. In case you return from Nazmir in the evening, you are invited. - And in case you return a bit earlier, I would like to show you around a bit in Vol'dun. It's quite beautiful here. I can't understand why the Zandalari put their criminals here to die...”

Anduin nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant. I would very much like to.”

“What are you doing in Nazmir, your majesty?” Private James joined in the conversation.

“I am visiting a friend, Private James. I won't take long before I'll be back in Vol'dun and then, I'll bring you back home to your mother.”

Anduin turned back towards the other young man. “Sergeant Ermey?”

“Yes?”

“You ensure this time that James stays where you are. That is an order from your King.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Ermey laughed. “Be quick to return then, please.”

*

NAZMIR, the next day

Glad that he had now secured Private James, Anduin didn't lose any time and ordered Jes-Tereth to sail over to Nazmir in the morning, having had a bit more of a quiet sleep. While the ship was under sail and taking advantage of coming above deck to watch her skillfully steer the 'Wind's Redemption', she took the liberty of asking the young king after his intentions.

“What are we doing over there in Nazmir, your majesty?”

Hadn't he heard the question before? “Visiting a friend, Grand-Admiral.”

“You know, your majesty, Nazmir is a fetid swamp full of ruined buildings and infested with blood trolls. - It is also said that there are ancient titan secrets harbored in a top security facility. And there are stories passed down, those who dare brave the swamp have a terrible habit of disappearing, never to return...”

Anduin couldn't suppress a small smile. “Really. - Don't you think those are stories cautioning children to behave, Grand Admiral?”

“No.” Jes-Tereth shook her head. “I am a sailor, your majesty, I do believe in such tales.”

She sighed. “My point is, your majesty, this area isn't one to march through carelessly. Will you take the Lion's Guards with you?”

Anduin shook his head. “I wasn't planning on running around in a foreign land yelling and getting caught, if that's what you mean, Grand-Admiral.”

“No, your majesty,” Jes-Tereth answered him unable to suppress a grin, “I just wanted to tell you to take care. My apologies. I did not mean to offend.”

“It is a wonder that I went through battle and I'm still able to stand here on your vessel, Grand-Admiral.” Anduin replied dryly which earned him her short laugh.

“I shall admit defeat, your majesty.”

“Good.” Anduin allowed himself to comment and looked ahead, the shores of Nazmir already in the distance.

The 'Wind's Redemption' stayed out, on the shores, so Anduin left the ship with only some of his Lion's Guards on a boat.

The trip right through the swamp to Fort Victory, the Alliance's outpost, was led by one of Wrymbane's 7 th  Legion scouts who already knew the area, yet it took longer than expected to find the way in the thicket. Anduin was fascinated with the mangroves and the wild, untamed nature. When they arrived around noon, the small outpost established in some ruins was busy, yet, Night Elves from the Sentinel Army, soldiers from the 7  th Legion, a Priestess and a blacksmith dwarf were left all astonished when they recognized that their High King was here. Rushing to meet him, they didn't make too much of a fuss when Anduin said to them he had come to talk to Shandris Feathermoon, the general of the night elf Sentinels and to John J. Keeshan, her co-leader. He was pointed to Alanya, the human companion of 'Silvermoon' Harry, a human pirate who helped establish Fort Victory. She sat on a tree trunk by the open fireplace.

“Greetings. - I am looking for Shandris Feathermoon and John J. Keeshan. I was told you know where to find them?” The young king asked Alanya.

The one spoken to shook her head. “As much as I know, they are out there, towards Torga's Rest to rescue the tortollans captured by the blood trolls. It came to our attention that the tortollans are familiar with all things in Nazmir, which is why they should know about Horde's operations here. By saving them, they hoped to get information about the Horde's movements and a Captain Areiel. They wanted to meet in Redfield's Watch afterwards.”

Anduin suddenly had a bad feeling, knowing Shandris' knack for making short process. They were already in the execution of _his_ orders?

Wrymbane's scout stepped forward. “I know where both locations are, your majesty. It's not far from here.”

“Let's hurry.” Anduin urged the scout forward, and they started running, his Lion's Guards in tow.

It started to rain when they arrived at Torga's Rest. The green of the swamp had changed to a dirty olive, stained with something red – blood? - but Anduin had no time to dwell on more speculation because it was obvious the ones they were searching for had already been here. They continued running, leaving the place. Minutes later, they arrived breathless at Redfield's Watch, a camp belonging to the Alliance north from Torga's Rest, only to find a tortollan, a race of turtle-like humanoids native to Zandalar, resting there.

“Greetings.” Anduin was quick to come to the point. “We are looking for the others. Do you know where to find them?”

The tortollan looked up and nodded. “They just left for the Necropolis. - Do you have a good story...?”

But Anduin didn't hear the rest, turning towards the scout, who upon realizing the question in his king's eyes only nodded and took the lead of the group again.

They arrived shortly at the Necropolis because Anduin forced them all to run faster, his bad feeling intensifying. The green swamp scenery changed when they entered the Necropolis. There was a fog that surrounded the old temple ruins, the pillars and the stone floor. The somberness was spooky. The green grass that was usually growing rampant turned a shade darker here; the fog was so opaque that one couldn't see any further than some inches. Some dead corpses lying to his left and right told Anduin they were perhaps late again, especially when he saw flames burning through the fog. If he hadn't been in such a fear that he was probably too late, Anduin would've taken time to admire the ancient and historic ruins, the mysterious designs that covered the massive foundations the temple was built on. Yet, Anduin was racing for the Ranger Captain's life.

When the scout moved forward, Anduin turned unnoticed around a pillar, leaving the scout and his guards behind in the fog while he followed his instincts and took to the left side of the temple. There. There was the fight he was looking for. He could already see that the dark ranger was close to the end of her powers and hear their exchange of words.

“Shandris, it's been... two, three thousand years? To think we'd meet again like this, and with you helping a human, of all things.”

“And you still cling to your outdated views on humans. I should've killed you a long time ago.” Shandris Feathermoon answered and attacked violently.

The fight took place on a small platform, vines embracing the four pillars where it stood. The leaves which had a different shade of green made it seem like the place where the dark ranger and her skeletal horse had chosen to make their last stand was special – but when the mount simply vanished and the forsaken was forced to fight back on her knees, Anduin heard her whisper: “Darkness... Sylvanas... is this what you say... what you wished to save us from?” and knew it was high time.

The Light was collecting in his hands when he sent it over to her. He knew it would hurt the forsaken a lot, but it was better saving her than watching her die at the hands of his comrades-in-arms.

“Shandris Feathermoon!” He shouted. “In the name of the King. Stop!”

Upon the flame of his Light which reached the forsaken - much to the night elf's and human's astonishment - the fight immediately ended. Anduin arrived, sank on his knees and continued guiding the Light over her body that lay almost lifeless on the side, pulling with his sheer power of will at the darkness that was still there, healing her.

A painful outcry told the young king that he had succeeded, that he had brought Ranger Captain Areiel back from the darkness she had been about to sink in.

“Your majesty! - But she...” Shandris shook her head in utter confusion while watching him. Keeshan, too, had fallen silent.

“We need her, Feathermoon, and that is my last word on this.” Anduin answered her in a very tired way.

Keeshan who was still stunned finally found his voice. “But the list of priority Horde targets was signed by your majesty himself.”

“I know, Keeshan.” Anduin said while he slowly stood up, swaying a bit from exhaustion when the other human caught him.

“Thank you.” Anduin smiled at him, standing alone, now. He took a deep breath. “I know my action might be controversial to the actual situation, but it was needed for a higher purpose.”

“A higher purpose?” Shandris replied, her eyebrows raised. “Your majesty talks in riddles.”

The young king looked over to the elder Night Elf, knowing her to be a highly decorated general of the Sentinel Army. “I understand that my acting must be questionable to you, General, yet, I know what I am doing. - And I have to ask for another favor of the both of you, that this remains a secret between us.”

Not too late had he said it, when the 7 th Legion scout and the Lion's Guards came upon them.

Shandris Feathermoon nodded, recognizing the importance of the king's request and said to Keeshan: “It's over. We found her plans and better return to Redfield's Watch.”

“The Horde will be forced to retreat from the Necropolis without their supplies. A good win for us.” Keeshan answered her immediately.

Shandris turned towards the High King. “I am honored. - We will find out what the Horde are planning, then get out. May Elune bless your way.”

Anduin nodded. “Stay safe. - Will you take my scout and my guards with you? I'll follow shortly.” He turned to the others. “And this is an order.”

Shandris and Keeshan left with the others and vanished in the fog, while Anduin turned towards the Ranger Captain who had started to move.

When Areiel got slowly back from her darkness - which had been struck by lightning - she realized she was still here in Necropolis, on the ground, somebody kneeling beside her.

“Feeling better?”

She was dizzy and every part of her hurt not in a good way – but she was here. She sat up.

“You were the one who rushed into my fight?”

Anduin's mouth twitched. She sounded _almost_ like her Warchief. Lady Windrunner – or was it Nathanos Blightcaller? - must have drilled her elite force well.

“A simple thank you would do as well.” He answered her. When she remained silent, he continued talking. “I know I can't spare you the pain I caused, but in case you – like all undead – know the right potion then I could be of help.”

He got another intense look from her piercing red eyes, something he was growing accustomed to – even if the pair in front of him were less hostile.

“And who are you? Human alliance scum?”

“You were an elf, so there's no need for insults.”

“A polite human boy.” She teased him, but he recognized that she was a bit torn apart between acknowledging him and ignoring him.

He raised a small smile. “And, lucky for you, one who values life more than death.”

“I'm undead.”

“I know.”

Now, she scrutinized him from head to toe. “You're not the average human who cries and runs away upon seeing us.”

“No.” Anduin had to laugh out loud. “Not really.”

“It was you who healed me with the... Light.” She was downright perplexed about it. “Why? If I may ask?”

“You may.” Anduin answered her. “The answer is simple. We share a... friend.”

Now he got her completely confused. “A friend? But you are... you are...”

Anduin raised his eyebrows. “I am?”

“Alive.”

“So?”

“Who are you?” The question was very precise, this time.

“Human alliance scum?” Anduin finished for her. “I heard that your name is Ranger Captain Areiel, which means you lead the Warchief's dark rangers.”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly, feeling weak and still in pain. The human did not only know her name and her rank, he also seemed to possess humor. It woke her curiosity. “But we're enemies. - So why did you save me? There's no friend we share. I know Shandris Feathermoon from a time long ago, but... you are so _young_.”

Anduin let another small smile escape and replied: “We are enemies, yet, I know that you are very precious to my friend because it is your chief, Lady Windrunner.”

Areiel was speechless. This young Alliance's soldier knew – and was friends with – the Warchief of the Horde? It couldn't be. And if... how come _she_ never talked a single word about it? “Since when do you know her?”

“Only recently, but since then we had a lot of discussions.”

“So you saved me because of her?” She was still confused.

“Yes.” He turned serious. “Because I know she had been hurt enough by humans in her life. I am not one who watches others suffer willingly.” - “By the way, you're free to go and leave. I've got other important things to turn to.”

Ranger Captain Areiel was left in something akin to incredulity when the young human went away.

*

GROMMASH HOLD, late afternoon

The Warchief of the Horde had been bored to no end, saddled with duties that kept her here in Orgrimmar, and was almost pleased to catch sight of her Ranger Captain.

“What news do you bring from Zandalar?” She asked her.

When Areiel didn't immediately answer, and Sylvanas found herself distracted by another request, she mentioned on the side: “Did everything go according to plan, Areiel?”

Areiel's reply couldn't sound more nebulous. “Not everything. Besides, I have to thank _you_ for being able to return, Dark Lady.”

She sensed Sylvanas' eyes on her. Questioning.

“Forgive me, Dark Lady. - I didn't know you had such a devoted friend.”

Sylvanas sat still on the Throne, and a thought rose in her, a thought so... impossible that she threw it away in the same moment. Never would _he_ -

“Don't speak in riddles, Areiel.” She said to her, keeping the usual icy calm.

Areiel who was well aware of everybody around them listening to their conversation, just tried to sound simple.

“Perhaps later, Dark Lady? If I am allowed to say, there are more important matters at hand right now...”

Sylvanas understood her immediately and nodded, taking up on her implication. But deep down, she was stunned, because her dark ranger's cautious words almost saw her suspicion confirmed. No. The one they were most probably _not_ talking about, was in Stormwind, wasn't he?

She continued the usual business she had to do as the Warchief and tried to gather patience. Finally, when the official hour was finished, she gave her dark ranger a sign to follow her to the small chamber behind the warchief's throne. The curtain fell down and served as a nod to privacy.

“Now, Areiel. - And straight to the point.”

“Dark Lady.” Areiel looked back at her, estimating for herself what it meant when she told her about him. She spoke very quietly. “We were ambushed today. The Alliance came upon Necropolis – I fear someone talked. They were quick, and when they reached me, there was a battle,” here, she fell silent for a moment. “I felt... darkness closing in, Dark Lady. I knew they had hit me badly and I feared... the worst.” She hesitated. “But there was this human from the Alliance – blond and really young - who stepped into the fight, Light bursting from his hands. It was very painful for me but it brought me back from the dark path I was already on.”

Silence ensued because both women knew what _this_ meant but also because Sylvanas was close to be shocked, this time.

She turned away, for a moment ringing with herself, and Areiel saw it, perplexed.

Of course, it was _him_. Of course. It could not have been anyone other than him! What did he do, this stubborn prat who intervened in her life like nobody else had ever dared? Now he started saving her dark rangers? As if she weren't already enough in his debt! Why did he manage every single time to throw little tiny obstacles in her way of fighting him? Anger flared up in her. Anger about him and anger about her lack of understanding that turned to rage and hatred and made her edgy. In a sudden temper tantrum she could not hold back anymore, Sylvanas smashed her quiver. And didn't stop there.

Outside, everybody who had been busy around Grommash Hold suddenly stopped in blatant horror as screeching came from the inside.

Orcs came out running, a troll jumped through a window, holding their ears only to watch the entirety of Orgrimmar's population looking towards the most important building in their city, the shrieking silencing everything and making them shudder. What had happened?

Even Renzik, Mathias' Shaw best spy and a goblin, was both amazed and confused. He had been ordered to return to Orgrimmar as a merchant again after the Battle for Lordaeron. As not to not raise suspicions, he had moved his merchandise trade far from Grommash Hold and tried to stay hidden in the shadows as best as possible. Yet, the Banshee's wail was heard up to here, to the Drag, the main road linking the Valley of Strength and the Valley of Wisdom in Orgrimmar. The Banshee Queen in action? What on Azeroth... ? These were important news for the Alliance because it meant something in the Horde had gone wrong. Utterly, completely wrong. He had never heard of such a reaction of hers before. Renzik shook his head and turned towards his next customer.

When the anger finally ebbed and Sylvanas had found back to her body and something that in her could pass for calm – something else like uncomfortable wonder worked its way through her. _He_ hadn't known Areiel. He just... had done it for her, an inner voice she didn't want to believe whispered. But why? Why? She had been nothing but mean to him, cruel and provocative. And she knew that attitude wasn't something that would make her likeable in the young king's eyes, far off to get her in his favor or on his good side. He embodied everything good and holy and justly lawful. Yet, he always told her how comfortable he felt with her and around her, something she had mocked him for, saying it was because of his father. It was incomprehensible. There had to be something beneath his armor she had overseen... and she had to find out. The anger flared up again, but she saved face.

“Continue, Areiel.”

“My lady... he spoke to me a bit when I regained consciousness...”

“Of course.” There was a short derisive laugh from the Banshee Queen. “Tell me.”

“You already know who saved me?”

“The young king of the Alliance?” And it was a statement, not a question. “How come he was present?”

Her Ranger Captain was for a moment speechless.

“I don't know.” Areiel shrugged her shoulders. “He not only put an end to the fight but was the one who healed me...” Then, the words of her leader clicked. “He was the High King of the Alliance? - This blond, good looking, really young human was...?” Areiel didn't get to end her question because the Warchief furiously shook her head.

“It is such a thing for him to do, this prankster.” Sylvanas pressed between her gritted teeth, clenching her fists. “What else?”

“He claimed... you were his friend.”

“His friend?” Sylvanas echoed, not knowing if she should be more disgusted or more amused about his boldness to use such a term for their... kind of basis.

Areiel nodded cautiously. “If I remember his words correctly, he said that you shared a lot of discussions” - yes, Sylvanas snorted, that's what he calls that I am forced to deal with him permanently - “and that he knew you suffered enough at the end of humans and that _he_ wasn't one to watch others suffer willingly.”

Another silence followed, Sylvanas clearly understanding the message behind his words, what he had told her only once, that he was nothing like Arthas. She had believed him then, although she had filed it away under answers that were given in the heat of the moment. But slowly, realization crawled in he had truly meant what he had said. Hell, it wasn't the first time she was confused about his truthfulness.

But he was only eighteen years old. What had happened to him to react in such ways? To always stick to his word? Threatening and making an offer at the same time? And it was not only what she saw with her own eyes – measured reactions and how he valued peace above it all – what he did and how he did it. Yet, the doubts weren't so easily wished away when her entire life had been betrayal, lies and disloyalty. And he knew. He had seen it in her reactions...

How was it possible... that she was on the verge of believing in him?

No, this could not be. She had heard from one of her Horde spies that an Alliance battleship had been sighted in Vol'dun, somewhere near the Terrace of the Devoted, and given Areiel's report, the young king had taken upon himself to go to Zandalar. An inner drive made her suddenly decide to go searching for him, to confront him personally on why he was doing all the things he did. Hell, they were at open war! Yet, every time he acted like they were not. Two sides raged in her. The one who wanted to outright kill him and solve her biggest problem in one move. The other wanted answers to questions that burned in her for some time now. And to crack the code that was named Anduin Wrynn.

*

VOL'DUN

It was not too late in the evening when Anduin returned to Shatterstone Harbor, and having in mind a peaceful night and some rest, he decided they should stay the night here. Besides, he was invited to Private James' farewell party.

It was a nice party, first they had dinner, then the 7 th Legion soldiers that were stationed here and the ship's crew celebrated together until the more cozy part of the evening began, with music and dancing and laughter. Not one thought of being on enemies' territory, and so it should always be, Anduin thought to himself. The warmth that still lingered here, on the seaside, made Jes-Tereth even contribute the beer and wine reserves from the ship to quench the thirst. Anduin had chosen not to drink too much, inwardly happy that he had succeeded in his plan of saving both the young soldier for his mother as well as Ranger Captain Areiel for her Warchief. It was a good night, and he wanted to value it.

This was perhaps why he left the party early and unnoticed. Since it was still too hot in the desert here - way too hot - Anduin decided to take a short walk along the shore, barefoot, and enjoyed the gentle waves that were lapping at his feet, looking at the starry sky. He was grateful to be left alone for a moment and for the chance of being on his own, something he rarely had. Walking away from the party, he waited until the loud laughter died down and quiet was around him, before stretching his eyes over the sea. The water, it was right there. It invited him, it almost screamed for him, sweaty as he was.

Anduin didn't hesitate long. He got rid of all his clothes, in the moonlight he was only a glimmering shadow and dived into the warm water. Light, it felt wonderful! The gentle waves lapped now against his whole body and he felt, for a short moment, happy and free.

He could not have known that there were two eyes on him. Two glowing _red_ eyes. Which couldn't believe what they saw, having followed him the entirety of his walk along the shore.

Was that... a naked young king she laid her eyes upon? Who was playing around in the water and smiling? Having always a soft spot for beauty when she saw it, Sylvanas almost stumbled upon her feet. She had taken a bat to fly over here and had seen the Alliance's ship from high above. She had just landed nearby when she recognized his figure leaving the ruckus of some sort of party.

She waited, motionless, until he came out of the waves, not losing any track of him. The way he had dived through the waves told her he was a good swimmer. When had the young king became so careless? But that was exactly what caught her hunter's soul. This carelessness, she almost came to adore. He had no clue that she was around. How easy she could crush him! How easy... and then he left the water and Sylvanas froze. Hell, she had completely forgotten how _gorgeous_ a human body could be...

It was all there, in front of her, to touch, to possess, to conquer. Yet, she stood still, enjoying the view, watching him easily finding his way through the sand. As if dancing.

The young king had indeed become a 'hunk of a man', she thought, surprised and then not, because he was Varian's son, after all.

Instead of his father's martial prowess, Anduin had a delicate physique, a slender body. The way he walked confidently showed his muscles work and proved him to be in an excellent shape. His torso well-toned. Sylvanas realized that although the young king was hiding behind a bulky armor, there was an athlete person beneath. In the soft light of the moon, against the white sands of the desert of Vol'dun, he bathed like a magical being. It added to his ethereal appearance.

She had come here to ask him after Areiel, yet... this opportunity was way too good to be left unused. The tension in her rose, the twitch at her mouth showed already her inner excitement. Catching the young king unprepared was something she would give her undead existence for. And now she had the chance.

Before he reached his clothes, she stepped in his way in one swift movement.

“Why did you save Areiel?”

For a moment, Anduin was completely startled, his heart skipping a beat. He paled visibly and stood frozen to the ground. It took him a long moment to recover his voice although he had recognized hers straight away.

“Lady Windrunner.”

The long moment had also shown Sylvanas quite plainly how beautiful he really was, being so close. The wetness on his pale skin made it glisten. Like the rain drops that had kissed the flower fields of Silvermoon, and that she had once loved. The long blonde hair was brushed back and accentuated the bright blue eyes framed by the blonde eyebrows which were focused on her. No eye rims, this time. High cheekbones. Full lips. A determined jaw. Even Areiel had described him as 'good-looking' and Sylvanas had to admit she was right, he was – for a human. The usual abrasiveness was completely gone from her tone when she posed the question again.

“Why, boy-king?”

He stood naked in front of her, blushing from head to toe, suddenly aware of how she leered at him, the twitch of her mouth obvious which he knew so well. He felt slightly embarrassed but then, he comforted himself with the thought that he had rarely seen her in an almost... a good mood. At least, the change in her tone suggested it. It had to be the adrenaline that rushed through him which made him bold again.

“I'll answer your question if you fulfill my second condition.”

She was partly nonplussed, partly amused. Where he got the courage to react like this, she didn't know. But he had it from the start, so she owned up to his terms.

“You'll get your six hours, boy-king. To _my_ conditions.”

She was about to give in?

“Which are... Lady Windrunner?”

“Only to my knowledge?” She teased.

“You are _finally_ accepting my condition only to bind it on yours?”

“No risk, no fun?”

Anduin glanced at her. What were they worth, those six hours? Would he be able to get through to her or not? Had he not promised himself it was worth a try? Was this the point where _he_ had to trust her?

“How about – to be fair – we split? Three hours my way. Three hours yours. Tomorrow, then. But I let you start.”

She eyed him for a time, but nodded. “Lordaeron.”

He was confused. “Lordaeron? It's in ruins, now.”

She nodded again. “A good point to start.”

He couldn't do other but grin. “Are three hours enough for the whole tour?”

“You think I'll show you the ruins?”

“I thought more of what's _beneath_ , Lady Windrunner.”

“Beneath?”

In all innocence he could muster, Anduin answered her. “Undercity?”

She threw him a threatening glance. “Perhaps we should visit your suggestion, first?”

“The Broken Keel Tavern in Ratchet?”

His remark made her pause. Did she hear this right? He wanted to do this human thing?

“You want to meet at a Tavern?”

He nodded. “It's neutral ground, so we won't attract too much attention. - The best way to hide, dear Warchief, as you well know, is in plain sight.”

“And how would you arrive in Kalimdor – wait, let me guess. Your frost mage...” She didn't get further, because Anduin already knew the end of the sentence. “I'll find my way.”

“The boy-king would dare enter such an establishment?”

She was back to mocking him which was a good sign. “I may be a young king, but even kings know where to go to amuse themselves. Isn't it the question if _you_ dare enter?”

She snorted. “You seem to sometimes forget that I lived a bit longer than you.”

Anduin smiled. “I do. Sometimes.”

There was a look from her, as if she slowly started to realize that she should not take him too seriously too often, either.

“Trying to learn from me, young king?”

His smile stayed and the words were spoken before he could take them back. “My father...” - he looked to the side, the pang of loss almost familiar now - “used to say that it is wise to learn from the elder ones.”

She had watched him closely, and she had seen his struggle, but didn't comment on it. For the first time. Because she could already tell from the way he brushed his hair behind his ears that he fought with himself, and in the same moment started to wonder, how well they already knew each other from those battle of words they had shared since the recent events. He had – until now – never ever given her a reason to feel threatened or in danger. Did it imply _she_ already trusted him without limits? No, this kind of thinking was dangerous. No. Perhaps she made a fault in meeting ...

When she lifted her eyes she saw that Anduin observed her.

“You are already thinking about a retreat, aren't you?”

Her silence only confirmed his suspicion. Calmly, he added: “See, that's why I asked you if you are that courageous, remember?”

Here, she tilted her head. “I am.” She smirked. “I survived much more than you...”

“On the battlefield, I'm sure, yes,” Anduin nodded, “but in general? Were you the one who was challenged at every step? I'm not so sure. - You are a hunter. Can you put that aside?”

She wasn't in the mood for more friendliness.

“I have no time for answers. - Why did you save my dark ranger?”

“I have no time for questions.” Anduin smiled at her and passed her slowly, only to turn around a bit later. “Tomorrow, after dusk? Lordaeron or the Broken Keel?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I expect you at the Broken Keel. Don't be late, boy-king.”

And just like that, she was gone, disappearing into the warm night.

  


  



	6. meeting, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N**  
>  I wrote a bit faster, this time, to be able to update a bit earlier. Welcome to a talk in the tavern!
> 
> Thank you, _Sthefyz_ and _SovereignViolette_ , for leaving a comment! It means a lot to me!
> 
> And here's another wonderful and heartwarming shout to you, _Windcage_!

NORTHERN BARRENS, RATCHET

The Broken Keel Tavern was full, orcs standing beside tauren and trolls and blood elves and forsaken and goblins, and since this was a neutral tavern, humans were here as well as dwarfs and draenei and gnomes and night elves, all drinking and celebrating and some of them even smoking. It was a solid desert building, few windows, a thick white painted wall and red roof tiles which kept the desert heat mostly out of the inn. Palms and the backside of a craggy cliff surrounded the building, their shadows washing over it with the end of the day. A bit away from the city noise, it was nevertheless readily accessible.

Ratchet was run by goblins and showed it; it was a trade city where one could find almost anything the heart desired. It was also a hotspot as all races of all types and members of all social and economic status rubbed shoulders in the bazaars. Goblins were essentially neutral to everyone and Ratchet entertained members of each race who came for the nightlife. The common languages spoken were Goblin, Common and Orcish.

That's why truly nobody cared for her when Sylvanas entered, the hood down into her face to not be recognized at once. She had left her bow behind as well as the quiver – which was broken, anyway - but she already missed them. Yet, they wouldn't do, here. Too easily recognized. Gone were also her famous shoulder pauldrons. She had dropped her boots with spikes that clacked wherever she went too and that left only her soft leather boots that made her much more quiet on her feet – just like when she had been a Ranger-General of Silvermoon and a hunter. Her corset was the only thing she was still wearing, to adapt to the looks of a dark ranger, because they were seen here from time to time. And she was alone, without Nathanos as a shadow at her side whom everybody knew. She had kept silent about her goings tonight, only Areiel knew, who had borrowed the Dark Lady her dark cloak. Had her personal champion known where she went by herself... she knew him well enough, but how would he react when she told him she met the High King of the Alliance? It was the first question she had no answer to and it gave her a strange feeling.

To her astonishment her change of garments worked. Nobody called her warchief. Was it this easy to make everyone around her blind? She almost laughed. The more because it gave her... a hint of being something close to _normal_ , again. Not being treated with mistrust and not being observed. A freedom of unknown sorts was tangible? What did _he_ make her do, Sylvanas wondered.

The narrow entry floor of the Broken Keel opened into a wide bar with many tables, chairs and benches and a small dance floor on the side. The music was already playing which added another deafening noise to the already loud level of glasses clinking, talks and guffaws of laughter. Sylvanas had to squeeze her way through a lot of people only to get wordlessly put a bottle of the Undercity 'Skull Shocker', a strong alcoholic beverage that 'gave a kick even the dead can feel' - as was written on the bottle -, in her hand from the forsaken waitress who walked around, nodding shortly towards her. That all added to that touch of a very strange feeling.

She saw the young king at the end of the bar, sitting at one of the small tables with his back leaned against the wall, overseeing a part of the taproom, in a dark hood just like her. Nothing blue or royal on him, only dark clothes to blend in. He could've posed as a ranger, she assumed, the way his blonde hair showed under the hood and he was smoking – smoking? - a cigar, one of those the orcs and taurens liked, too. And then, she stood at his table.

“So that's where you hid yourself.”

Anduin stood up, still drilled in formalism. “My lady, I am glad you are here. - Take a seat.”

Yes, he really was, she could tell from the way he smiled. Yet, that he started to address her not by her title showed he, too, was careful of passing ears eavesdropping into their meeting.

When she sat down and put the bottle of the green Skull Shocker down the table close to his beer, he raised shortly his eyebrows. “I didn't know you were... drinking, too.”

She smirked. “I can – if I need to. Tonight, I want to.” She looked around.

“They won't bother you tonight.” He said and her attention turned back to him.

“So? Why do we need to meet here?”

“Because... it's one of the few places for a meeting on neutral ground where I can get you alone.”

Her long, elegant eyebrows raised, too. “There's a room in Grommash Hold...”

He shot her an amused look. “And what would've the Horde leaders said to this?”

She took a watchful look around before she answered him. “I am their Warchief.”

“Of course. I forgot.”

She snorted and darted a disdainful look at him. “My word is law.”

The twitch of his mouth said otherwise but he didn't want to provoke her already so soon into their... how had she called it? A date? The thrills when he had seen her had been like a punch in the gut. Anduin had doubted to the very end that she would come. But she was here and he could hear her voice. He took a last puff from his cigar before he put it away.

“And the Horde is not the Alliance.” She added.

He rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “What made you give in to my second condition?”

“Your promised me answers. Why did you save Areiel?” The twitch at her mouth was back. “She sends greetings, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Anduin smiled. “You know, she was a _bit_ more polite than you when we met the last time.”

“Really?” Sylvanas leaned forward. “She's not involved, right now. - In case you're interested.”

Anduin leaned forward, too. “Are there... possibilities?” He asked and grinned. “I know next to nothing about forsaken's normal life...”

“If you hadn't forced me to destroy Undercity, I could've shown you.”

And with one thrown remark, he was put back into the current situation. As if he were ever to forget...

“Can we make another deal?”

She answered with a frown.

“No politics tonight.” While saying this, Anduin cursed his impulsiveness. Hadn't he wanted to use these hours that she granted him for getting through to her, for getting to know her motives a bit better, for getting to... well. It didn't matter _tonight_.

Sylvanas smirked. “Another deal? Then this will be the shortest three hours I ever spent in a tavern. - Tell me why you helped my dark ranger and I'm gone.”

His defiance surfaced. “There are other topics...”

“...such as?”

He should've gone better prepared into this, but then, she had him completely overthrown, standing suddenly in front of him after taking a bath in the waves. The heat between them there had been different from here. More friendly. But there was something nagging at him, something he wanted to give voice to because if he didn't _now_ , he feared he would never.

“You only gave in because of what I did for Areiel? Nothing else?”

She looked at him, tilting her head. He was stubborn, as always. What had she expected, coming here? A challenge? Or tension? And distraction? All the things that had been there in a cell in the Stockades, once. Sylvanas hadn't forgotten. A game they hadn't played through. Not to the end, although she wasn't certain  _where_ the end was.

“Had enough beauty sleep?”

There was a shadow of a smile on his face. “To be ready for?”

“Let's play a game.”

He groaned quietly.

“Where's your fighting spirit, boy-king?”

“And here I thought I could relax.”

She had to smirk again. “This is what going to a tavern means, Wrynn. Boozing and playing. - At least, in the Horde ones.”

“Don't start.” He shook his head but had noticed her use of his last name. “In the Alliance's as well.”

“You are in?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Do not disappoint me, boy-king.”

“Alright.” His look was doubtful but he nodded.

“It's called 'One is a lie'.”

And although the memories of her sisters were immediately present, she pushed them away and focused on the young man opposite her. It would be interesting to see how _he_ passed. His questioning look made her explain.

“Each of us will make three statements – and two will be true.”

“When is the lie revealed?”

“Later?”

He shook his head. “If that's an elven game, it's too complicated for me.”

She eyed him. “You are anything but foolish, Wrynn.”

It sounded almost like a compliment, but Anduin feared he wasn't ready for the clever statements of the warchief. The game she suggested implied she knew it very well.

“How about we shorten the three statements to one. And we'll guess at once if it is true or a lie.”

“You are taking the easy way out, boy-king.”

A crooked smile was on his face. “I am. - Go on, then.”

She glanced cautiously around before she did. “I'm proud to be warchief.”

He just looked at her, sharply. “No.”

This time, nothing betrayed her looks. “I'm sad that I can't be alive again.”

Anduin nodded. “You are.”

“I am not.”

“You-”

Head in her hands, she looked at him. “I said do not disappoint me.”

He sighed, brushing the hair behind his ears. “I can disappoint you?”

She snorted but didn't answer.

Anduin just looked at her and meant gently: “Some truth. I'm not here to stab you in the back. You're safe, my lady. I just would like to know a bit more about you.”

“You shouldn't get too comfortable around me.” She mocked him.

He leaned back and sipped from his beer, enjoying the strong taste, with an open look.

“But I do feel comfortable around you.”

“Because I remind you of your father?”

“No. - Yes?”

“Do not dance around this, Wrynn.”

He smirked. How much was he to reveal? “You allow me to say what I mean. And you don't measure me.”

“Really.”

“You make me curious.” Anduin offered. “You don't fit any scheme.”

She smirked again. “Curious? - It's _you_ who doesn't fit the scheme. Like now.”

“Me?” He laughed quietly.

 _Charming_. Well, she could play at this, too. “Then tell me which scheme I do fit.”

“I know you're perfect. Indestructible. Unshakeable.”

“I am nothing of those things, boy-king-”

“As far as I know you're used to do what you like. And you never had to justify yourself for it. But nowadays, you have to, if I am allowed to make a guess.”

Her eyes pierced right through him. “I am the Warchief of the Horde! I don't need to justify my actions!”

Now it was his turn to take a cautious look around, but nobody seemed to have noticed. Hearty laughter from taurens at the next table had covered it mostly. He still smiled at her, what confused her the more. “You're just proving my point.”

“No.” Sylvanas returned to her calm. “And has the king neither?”

Anduin only sighed. “I have the feeling I have to do it all the time. To justify myself.”

She raised her eyebrows. “That's because you try to please everybody.”

“Please?” Anduin shook his head. “You never stood in front of a whole court and were forced to comply.”

Her mouth twitched more. “Poor boy, still having childhood traumas? - What was it, then? You had to declare your innocence? You had to play the flute? You had to know a poem by heart?”

Anduin only rolled his eyes when he earned another smirk of her. “Which was it?”

He declined. “You don't really want to know.”

“Embarrassed to admit your faults, Wrynn?”

He threw her a look, half amused, half annoyed. “I know that I have plenty of faults.”

“Human potential...”

He leaned forward. “But let me give the question back: wasn't there something  _once_ that embarrassed you?”

“Nothing.”

“You couldn't be perfect the whole time.”

“But I am-”

Anduin started grinning again. “Finally I get to meet the most perfect being on Azeroth-”

“Stop this.”

“Why?” Invitingly, he leaned closer. The tension between them was back, and its intensity let Anduin's brashness rush ahead. “Tell me why you're really here, perfect being.”

She gave the question back. “Why are you?”

“I already told you.”

“Careful, boy-king. You forced me here.”

“I didn't know I could force you.”

“Nothing you say. Or do. Could possibly frighten me.”

“Prove it.”

“Why should I?”

Anduin's stare became hard. “Why are you here, my lady?”

“To amuse myself over you again, human?”

“That's all that brought you here?”

She leaned forward, too, gazing at his bright blue eyes. “What else should there be?”

“More?”

“More? - What kind of more?”

They were at eye level, now, and his stare was way too intense for a human. Anduin decided to take a leap into the unknown. “More of this tension _I_ feel and I think _you_ do, too.”

“Are you flirting with me?” She liked toying with him way too much.

“If I am – would you, too?”

“Far too long... for me.”

His answer was wry. “First time... for me.”

“Poor boy.” She sneered, but it was done in a friendly tone.

“Will you show me?” His answer was blunt.

“Flirting?”

He was a bit more cautious in his phrasing, this time. “Is there a forsaken class for it I shouldn't miss?”

Her mouth twitched. Yes, she really came to adore his dry humor. Craving more of it. “How many classes did you miss in your youth? I guess not one.”

His smile turned almost mischievous. “By the Light, I'm sussed.”

“The Light, yes. I've heard it fills the very being.”

“It does. Perhaps like dark magic does, too?”

She snorted. “No human understands darkness.”

“I tend to say it's just another form of magic.”

“So how come the light-wielder's fascination with me, one of the Dark?”

She stuck to her guns? His look intensified. “You crossed every line I set.”

Her smirk grew wider. “Did I crawl under your _human_ skin?”

His eyes grew darker. “You don't know how much.”

There. It was back, this honesty of him that disarmed her every time. Although he was shamefully repeating her words from the meeting at High Perch, she was aware that their faces were only a touch away.

“Tell me.”

He knew that she was playing with him, yet, he couldn't withstand her alluring tone. “The night in the Stockades.” He murmured, somehow growing hoarse. “The way we talked – you caught my fascination. Completely. Like nobody ever did before.”

“I did?” Her smirk turned into a sassy grin. “I only wanted to distract you.”

“You met with success.” He commented dryly, but he leaned back and sipped on his beer. Taking himself a bit out of the dangerous thrills she caused.

She didn't know why, but his little break – by leaning back and taking himself out of her radius - made her hungry. Predatory. He woke her hunter's instincts, having no fear of her and rushing headlong into disaster with his eyes wide open. Daring to come here, only to meet her. To spend time with her. This much, she could tell.

“A forsaken managed to wake a human's interest?”

He tilted his head. “ _You_ did. - What kind of interest made you come here?”

“I already told you.”

“Maybe I'd like to hear it again.”

“We're not done with you telling me about your fascination.”

He picked up her thread easily. “So what do you want to hear? How you made me... feel awkward first? How you brought me to consider you fascinating?”

“Hmmm...” She really liked to hear him confess, searching his eyes that were solely focused on her, again. “So eager to plead your case?”

He crossed his arms after taking another sip of the beer and simply watched her.

“Show me.”

“What?”

“How it's done to plead my case.”

A short, derisive laugh. “I'm not a teacher.”

“You were a good one, I've heard.”

It was a clever weaved compliment, yet, Sylvanas wanted to hear more. More of those confessions she was about to tease out of him.

“Not so fast. We're at pondering fascination, dear boy.”

“Are we? - You know, my father told me once about you.”

“Your father?”

“Yes.” Anduin smiled a bit. “He admired beauty, like you do, especially in females.”

“I do admire beauty? Who said that?”

“I was told that elves... have a special eye for beauty. Since you...”

“Undead now, boy-king.” Sylvanas commented dryly, but Anduin would not allow himself to be put off and replied as dryly as her: “But I dare say you have not lost it.”

Sylvanas only skipped his note. “You were talking about your father.”

“He told me that you had been a rare beauty. That Lords from countless noble houses had sought your hand, even Prince Sunstrider was said to have desired it.”

She leaned back, watching him. “What does his _son_ think?”

Anduin blushed. “You are beautiful, my lady. I won't deny it.”

“How much beauty have you seen, Wrynn?”

He rolled his eyes. “Enough so you don't need to belittle my compliment.”

“It was a compliment?”

He stopped short. “It was intended to be one.”

She leaned forward again, her mouth twitched. “You have to mean it.”

“I do!”

 _Her_ eye roll was his answer. “Someone ought to teach you lessons. Let's see – no, impossible. No human has a knack for the right compliment.”

“That's not true -”

“It is. Is there an elf in Stormwind you can ask? One that could teach you.”

“You are pretty convinced that only your people know how to flirt and to do compliments right?”

“I know from a longer existence.” She teased him again, but Anduin wasn't content.

“Stop making allusions to my age.”

“It's just a reality you don't like to accept.”

“What has my age to do with anything?”

Her eyebrows raised again. “Experience? Wisdom? Maturity?”

Anduin smirked. “I am mature enough, at least judged by human parameters. Wise? I only quote: 'It's easy to be wise after the event.' and experience can only be gained in 'learning by doing', which is what you are doing with me, here, right? Lecturing me? How successful had  _your_ pupils been?”

“My pupils?” She snorted. “You forget, young boy, that I only taught talented and willing elves. Only one human was good enough.”

“So I would've failed you completely.” Anduin stated quite emphatically.

“I observed you on the battlefield.” She taunted him. “Not really skilled in swordsmanship, are you, Wrynn?”

He shook his head. “No, although I improved there. - Yet I was told I am more skilled in ranged combat.”

“Such as...?”

“Throwing daggers.” He wanted first to add archery, but then he remembered how she handled her bow – and that he felt himself far away from it.

“I heard you were good in archery, too, Wrynn. Don't you want to share?”

There. She had known all along which made him blush. “Not really.”

“Why? Too shy to admit your advantages, may they be to a lesser extent?”

“Less? No. But why should I admit my imperfect skills to the most perfect bowery woman who exists on Azeroth?”

Another derisive laugh at his compliment. “Where's your truthfulness now?”

“Still here.” Anduin answered calmly, taking another sip of the beer.

“Why did you save Areiel?”

Her question was posed, unexpectedly and quick. Yet, had he really to admit why? That he had only thought of her?

“I'm sure your Captain repeated my words.”

Not content that she had _not_ gotten him out of his reserve, Sylvanas returned to mocking him. “The words of a knight in shining armor.” She leaned forward, again. “Someone good and holy and justly lawful.”

He just eyed her, knowing well she was teasing him. “Not so holy as you always think.”

“A hole in your holiness?”

“I'm no saint.”

She laughed derisively again. “You are, dear boy, you are. - Way too young to have committed _anything_ interesting.”

Anduin didn't know if he should repel her or remain silent. He was young, that was true, but he was also annoyed that every time, _every time_ , his age was like a mirror held up to him by somebody. She did it, too. When would this stop? When he was old?

Sylvanas had observed him well. “Your age is your sore point?”

“Like yours is being undead?”

Their game had suddenly taken a turn into fighting again. No, he should've kept his brashness in check. “My apologies.”

“You don't tell me anything new, boy-king.”

“I know.” Anduin returned her piercing look. “That's why _I_ apologized.”

“What for? You're the same as them, all humans are. No need for manners.”

“I don't like your simplistic way of lumping all together. I am not  _them_.” He warded her off.

“No.” She smirked. “You are exactly like them.”

There. He was reminded of the same question all over again. Would she have saved his soldiers if they were buried in a tunnel? Would she have saved one of his elite soldiers? Would she have saved... No. Anduin closed shortly his eyes. Don't go there, he admonished himself. Don't...

“You said your father admired beauty, _especially_ in females.”

He was at a loss. “Yes?”

“Which means his son admires beauty in males, too?”

Anduin's face colored, having not expected her to read between the lines. Not knowing what to answer her, he stayed silent.

“So the rumors about the Black Prince are true?”

“Wrathion?” It came out quite sad.

Sylvanas' smirk turned, surprisingly, into a slight smile. A reaction from him? She could also see he was completely embarrassed. “No need to be ashamed. - I'll tell Areiel to bury her hopes.”

This made him react. “Stop teasing me with her.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Because,” he put the fingertips at his temples, “I'm not certain how to answer.”

“You liked him?”

“I did. - I still do. But...”

“But?”

Light, why was he discussing such a thing with her, of all people?

“It was childish.” His blush deepened and the fingertips stayed at the temples.

His confession made her want to own up to him. “You were right, by the way. Elves admire beauty wherever they see it. They are known for keen perception, grace and great spell work.” After some time, she added: “Only you humans established rules concerning love.”

Anduin was still confused. “And for that I should apologize, too?”

“Is that why you hide behind being a priest?”

“I am not hiding...” Too late, he realized she was on her best way to lure him out again.

“You are. To a certain extent.”

He got a bit angry. “Of course we won't speak of what you are hiding behind.”

“I am not.”

“You are. - Family?”

Her eyes glowed more. “Yours?”

He couldn't help but laugh about her quick-wittedness. “What did your sisters do?”

“My sisters... - how come you know so much about me?”

“Know your enemy, my lady.”

“Let's see what's missing in relation to you, then?”

“Too young to have lived through all that you did?”

She snorted. “Using your age as an excuse?”

He softened his tone. “What do you want to know?”

“Where did you get your love for peace?”

There was a shadow over his face. “Too many losses, my lady.”

“Really.”

He skipped any further comment. “Where did you get yours for war?”

She snorted. “I was growing up with war around me-”

“A lot. You have a warrior's heart.” Anduin noticed.

For a moment, her memories were present again. And with them, the pain. No.

“We were talking about your Black Prince.”

“He's not mine. He never was.”

“But you wish he were?”

“It doesn't matter what I wished for.”

She eyed him, the way he brushed the hair behind his ears and rubbed his eyes.

“You are still young.”

He was a bit annoyed she was bringing up his age again, she could see it.

“I may be young, but I am...”

“It means,” Hell, he wasn't so slow the other time, Sylvanas thought, “you get another chance for everything.”

“A chance for...?”

“Love?” She mocked him.

“Speaking of: who did you love?” His counter question was faster posed than she expected.

“I loved...” She stopped herself before she said “Nathanos” and wondered at the same moment, why she was here with another man and he, her champion, knew next to nothing of it. How she had wanted him to get him to love her more – and achieved the opposite effect. Nathanos was always _by_ her side, her champion, her bodyguard, deeply loyal, but he was not really _with_ her.

Anduin had seen the sadness that was on Sylvana's face for a short moment. That she did not answer him immediately. That she stayed silent. And he couldn't do other than feeling with her. He groaned inwardly. Whatever he did, however he started to achieve it, it all went the wrong way this evening. Where was his diplomacy? His sensitivity? She got him so confused. “Excuse me. I didn't mean to prey.”

Anduin almost regretted his question, seeing that he still got no answer from her. What could he possibly say that...?

“I doubt Wrathion ever took it seriously.”

This got him her attention back.

“You and him?”

Anduin turned red, again. By the Light, what had gotten into him to tell her his secrets...

“... and I wasn't sure of my father's approval.”

“I can't understand why humans in general make a great song and dance about this.”

Anduin smiled a bit. “Nor can I.”

“I'll tell Areiel to give up hope.”

“She's not interested in me. - She's interested in _you_.”

There was a twitch at her mouth. “Really.”

Anduin took a shot in the dark. “It is speculated that you are open to both genders.”

Sylvanas tilted her head, a curious look at him.

“The boy listens to gossip, who would've thought. Not kinglike. - How come you know about my lovers?”

“There's definitely one who is in every gossip.”

“Who?”

“Nathanos Blightcaller? - Or should I mention the female harem you are to have had in Undercity?”

The moment he said it, he knew it was the strong beer talking. He should've paid heed to his confessions but now it was too late.

“So you _do_ listen to gossip concerning me?” The mocking was back in her voice. “How long have you been interested?”

Anduin blushed again. “Not like that...” It sounded lame, he knew it, but it was true.

Sylvanas smirked and shook her head. “No need to admit you have a crush on me...”

“I hadn't... until now.”

“Now? So who was your first crush? - It was the Black Prince, wasn't it?”

Anduin blushed more. He was teased by her again and he didn't know what to do against it. Against her. He was really in deep trouble. “Can we change the subject?”

“Let's get back to hiding.”

“I don't hide.”

“You chose to become a priest.”

“It is faith in ourselves that separates us from others, and with our powers, we cause great change in all of Azeroth.” Anduin quoted.

Sylvanas snorted. “That's not what I wanted to hear.”

He smiled shortly. “I know. - There's not much to tell. While in Ironforge, I discovered my true calling in life: to be a priest devoted to the Holy Light.” And with those words, the memories of his time in Ironforge came back and alongside the many he had wanted to forget. The destruction of the Cataclysm. The death of Aerin, his dwarfen bodyguard. Being held hostage, when he escaped with Jaina's hearthstone – and what was Jaina going through, right now? Rejected by her own mother? The worries he thought to have left behind at the door of the Broken Keel Tavern returned to him again.

She had watched the conflict in his face and decided to intervene. “You are so quiet, Wrynn.”

“I was just looking for a peaceful solution.” Was his disconnected comment when she reacted – to his surprise - angrily.

“We won't have another discussion about peace tonight, boy-king. - Otherwise, I'm gone.”

“And here I was thinking we were getting a little closer, my lady.” It sounded defiant, but Anduin couldn't help it.

She leaned suddenly forward. “There are other ways to get _close_ , dear Wrynn.”

Anduin groaned inwardly. The speed in which she changed from fighting to flirting surely felt like pulling the rug out from under his feet.

In a moment of epiphany, he asked himself where they both would end – and considering the way he went out of his way to lose all objectiveness where she was concerned, he assumed that would be him dead on the battlefield. Well, at least he would leave no one behind mourning for him. And at a single blow, his father was present and with him a pang of loss. - His father, what would he say to him after knowing he was here, in secret, talking to the Warchief of the Horde? That his son was about to lose his goal of protecting the Alliance? That he was doing the wrong thing, like Genn's position so clearly stated? What use was fighting if he lost anyway, in the end? And here he was reminded of the beginning, a night in the cell when he had initiated a talk, a discussion, a battle of words. It always came back to this, that _if_ , the only one who was to blame for was himself.

Sylvanas had quietly studied Anduin's face again while he had all those contradictory emotions mirrored on his face and she had seen the shadows and the sadness in his eyes, suspecting he had now his father on his mind. His father... and more, obviously.

“More daddy issues?”

He looked up – and for a moment she wasn't sure if she caught him with tears glistening on his eyelashes.

“You never told me about your sister issues.”

“There's nothing to tell.” Hell, he really was stubborn, returning to this topic over and over again.

“You want me to tell you all, but you keep silent like a grave.”

“In the end, family claims us all, Wrynn.”

“Really? You forget I know both of your sisters. And you called your elder sister 'rude' in the Throne Room of Lordaeron.”

“Alleria?”

And there, he had her. A shadow flew over her face and she looked away. “Don't assume, boy-king...”

“My apologies,” Anduin interrupted her upon recognizing the same sadness she now shared with him. He swallowed. “We better let sleeping dogs lie.”

Her head turned back to him. “You had to fight for your father's love.”

Another pang hit him, and for a moment silence ensued between the both of them.

“That's... true.” He admitted.

His truthfulness caught her again. She could see it was not easy for him, but he did, nevertheless. As always... her problem of understanding him wasn't solved.

“How well... did you know my father?”

“Enough to tell you that you have to do a lot to step into his shoes.”

“Don't I know it.”

“Give up.”

“That's what you want me to do? To give up?” Incredulity was on his face. “You didn't give up, either.” Or did she mean he should give up on _being_ like his father?

Her laugh was joyless. “You have the better prospects, Wrynn.”

“I heard Areiel's last words before I managed to pull her back with the Light's help.”

There, another topic was in the room Anduin wasn't sure of if it had been clever to bring it up.

The look of surprise that flew over her face caught him. Yet, she made a snide remark. “Satisfied your curiosity?”

He rejected her accusation. “I pulled her back from the darkness. So, no. I wasn't curious. I knew if I were to save her it was high time.”

Her gaze was inscrutable. “You did it because 'saving' is in your nature, boy-king.”

“I did it...” Anduin was suddenly so tired of beating around the bush, he just said the truth. “I did it for you, my lady. She's family to you. - _I_ won't rip you of another family member. I simply do not such things, because I would give my life to have my father back.”

The silence that ensued was longer, this time.

Sylvanas was shocked once more, like she had been when Areiel had told her that _he_ was the one who saved her, having never ever expected the young king to be so truthful in _this_ case. But he was. He had confirmed her worst fears. Hell... he stirred a lot in her, and she couldn't do anything against it. Nobody – except Nathanos, perhaps – nobody had been as truthful to her as he was which was exasperating! And it made her react against her will. The words were spoken before she could take them back.

“I loved to dance. I made my sisters my dance partners, and Lirath, our little brother, used to play for us ...”

She felt haunted by sadness, but she also felt her sisters' spirits beside her and remembered how they had laughed together. Alleria the most, always teasing them, and Vereesa, adoring her two elder sisters.

And Anduin saw it, the emotions on her face, and was stunned. She just told him a secret from her former life? The picture in his mind was adorable when he tried to imagine the three Windrunner sisters, happy and young. It made him take the initiative, this and perhaps the fact that he was slightly drunk.

Slowly, cautiously, he leaned forward. “There's dance music here.” And in the most neutral tone he could muster, he asked her: “May I have this dance with you?”

Piercing red eyes turned towards him, not unkind, and there was a twitch at her mouth. Her voice was very low. “The young king is not really asking the warchief to dance.”

“I'm no king here. Neither are you warchief.” Anduin only commented in a voice as low as hers.

Her eyes continued to stay on him. He was right... and the way he did not further insist upon it, surprised her, when her look glided towards the dance floor. All sorts of couples were dancing - this was a place made for amusement - some companionships paid for, some not. The goblins were good at this, Gallywix was a good example of this lifestyle. Her look returned to him. If there was a thing she was sure of was that Anduin, being brought up as a king, had had dance lessons and was probably very good at it. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked her.

“One. For Areiel.” She took a big drink from the bottle and rose up, and he with her, amazed to no end. Now, seeing her accept his offer, he really wasn't sure if he had really wished to go through with it. Alas it was too late.

As Anduin had learned he took her hand and took her in his arm and started to sway, the music being slow.

One touch. A warm hand on a cold one. And then... a tingle like a flow of magic. What was this thing between them that started when they looked too deep into each other's eyes? Opposites attract? Anduin was aware of the closeness between them. He started to sweat. His heart started to beat faster. He felt the magnetism between them grow stronger. Very slow, he pulled her closer to him, not being able to resist the wish for physical touch, the longing for more and the simple want for savoring this, in this moment. For a moment allowed to forget he was king and every single duty that came with that.

He could hear her whispering in his ear. “Few exist with more dedication or vigor than you, Wrynn.”

He closed his eyes. A shiver run down his spine when he realized she pressed herself against him, making all his senses tingle again.

“Let me just enjoy the moment.” He whispered back in her ear since she had chosen to stay that close to him. Surely it was all a game to her but right now he wanted to feel the emotions that cut through him. He had not done so before.

Anduin had never allowed someone else to come so close to him. He had wished so. Always. - But he had been taught a very hard lesson in his youth. He had never even had a chance to do this, until now, eyes followed him at every moment, watching him, judging his every movement, forcing him to be careful with every action and word. Lady Windrunner didn't know how _precious_ those hours were for him, stolen moments he would have no chance to repeat once he returned to the jungle that was called his life. What a king must do, the words always present in his mind.

His joy that she was here, that she had decided to share a moment with him, free from all that burdened their lives – it was exciting, it was dangerous, it was stunning.

He was so used to restricting himself, to containing himself, to be calm, that the emotions that cursed wildly through his body threatened to overwhelm him. If just being near her had such an impact, what impact had... being intimate, then?

No, these were forbidden thoughts. But his arousal couldn't be hidden anymore. The intimacy of their bodies made him harden and he was aware that she realized it by the way her mouth twitched.

“And here I thought you had a thing only for men, Wrynn.” She teased him.

“I can't deny the effect you have on me.” Anduin answered her, husky. “There's more to you than meets the eye.”

“How come you never found another boy? Or girl?”

“Too invested in war and the future.”

“Never been hungry for making love?”

A quiet laugh reverberated through Anduin's body. “I've watched my servants. And I'm a light wielder which grants satisfaction of another kind, my lady.”

“You're one who likes to watch?” She teased him again.

“To learn from, yes.” He admitted deliberately.

Hell, Sylvanas had forgotten how disarming he was when he told her nothing but the truth. “A quick learner, then.”

Was she flirting with him? ”Not always, my lady, not always.”

The slow music had ended but slid smoothly in a new tune which was also slow. Anduin didn't want to give up the magic of the moment yet, feeling still comfortable here, with her in his arms, and neither seemed she willing to stop so he just continued dancing.

The feelings that rushed through him intensified and he enjoyed every second of it.

“So,” She picked up their thread, “where have you been a slow learner?”

“That's not fair.”

“It never is.”

“I thought it is obvious.”

“Is the young king fishing for the warchief's compliments?” She whispered in his ear.

Anduin blushed again. “Maybe.” He whispered back. There was still a part in him that longed to be acknowledged by her. As a worthy opponent. Although he wasn't sure to what the 'opponent' belonged anymore. He tried to think of other things because he had sworn to himself to exclude politics tonight. And it was so easy to do, because he only needed to feel their closeness.

Her derisive laugh followed immediately, but it had an amused note. “ _I_ am certain you were the teacher's pet.”

A crooked smile was her answer. “That's _not_  a compliment.”

“Were you?”

“What does it matter?”

“Another sore point I found?”

“I bet you were a teacher who was hard to please.”

“Since you're so eager to please _everyone_ , boy-king, you would have found a way to please me, too.”

Her voice had drifted towards that alluring tone, and Anduin's knees got weak. Light, she had a huge effect on him. How far could this game go?

“I... I don't know.”

“Suddenly unsure?”

The pressure against his groin increased and he couldn't suppress a quiet groan which made her whisper in his ear again. “See? I am not.”

Anduin was more than relieved when the slow music ended and changed towards a quick rhythm. He stepped back and accompanied her back to their table where he bowed shortly. “If you'll excuse me for a moment, my lady.”

Then, he took the fastest way out of the tavern. Outside, it was hot, but Anduin felt more than hot. There were some goblins and orcs who dealt with each other but he passed them and came to stand by a palm tree. He was still hard, very turned on and at the same time almost desperate.

Doubts, if he was doing the right thing, had suddenly befallen him. And then, he was quite embarrassed with himself. To admit that Sylvanas was beautiful – and now he called her already by her first name in his thoughts! - was one thing, another thing was to react... in such ways. To feel desire, more than what was normal. Or at least what he knew as normal. To want, more than just discussing and earning trust. To give in, more than to exchanges and permanent fights. Anduin closed his eyes.

All he had wanted was to gain her trust. All he had wanted was to get her to peace. All he had wanted was... _not_ to nurture this increasing desire of more of her.

Anduin sighed and opened his eyes. No, he forgot her champion. There was already one who fulfilled her desires beside war and she was only playing with him. A boy-king. On a playground where he didn't know the ropes...

Two glowing red eyes came into his sight.

“Doubts, boy-king?”

“I...”

“And you're asking _me_ to be courageous?”

Surprisingly, he had to smile at her choice of words. She had a point.

“Come back inside.”

“Is this an order?” He teased her.

“By the warchief in person.” She teased back.

He followed her and they returned back to the table.

Perhaps it was for the better. He should stop his train of thought because it was to no avail. What lasting impression did he leave? And to end the evening this way? No.

“Sylvanas.” Quietly and for the first time, he addressed her with her first name only, tasting the name on his tongue. He hold her back, gently. “Wait.”

There was something in his voice – besides calling her by her name – which made her stop in the middle of the crowd and turn around.

“I have doubts, but they don't concern you, only me.”

“Didn't you tell me no politics tonight? The same goes for you.”

He raised his eyebrows, not used to be spoken to in such a demanding tone.

“And don't come with one of your clever arguments, Wrynn. - Here.”

A forsaken who came by, with a tablet in her hands, made Sylvanas grab a beer from it and let her say something in Gutterspeak which he didn't understand, but it raised a smile from the forsaken girl when she turned to Sylvanas, blinking, changing now to Common. “Us undead girls really know how to have a good time, because after all, what's the worst thing that could happen? - Nice butt, by the way.” She said to Anduin in passing.

Anduin was completely thrown and blushed again. She ordered a beer for him?

There was a derisive laugh to be heard and it came from her. “We'll have to work on your manners, Wrynn.”

Anduin was still speechless when he followed her back to the table.

 


	7. meeting, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
> Welcome to the second part of the talk in the tavern! The predator is back. ;-)
> 
> Thank you, _Sthefyz_ , _PRAISETHEWALLS_ and _Estridde_ for leaving such wonderful comments! I appreciate them very much!
> 
> May all the inspiration you give to me come back to you, _Windcage_!
> 
> And you, _Lizzy_ , I wish the best to you.

 

THE BROKEN KEEL TAVERN, RATCHET

Anduin sat down where he had been before and watched her take another gulp of the green Skull Shocker. No, he really didn't want to try that. He stuck to his new beer, which was still cold and fresh, and savored the dark and bitter taste. In the meantime, he tried to wipe all the other things away -

“Your doubts, Wrynn.”

He returned from his thoughts. “Yes?”

“And no excuses.”

“I...”

She interrupted him. “You wondered what your father would've said if he knew you were meeting me? Or is it the puppy nowadays? Or all the other members of your precious faction?”

Anduin blushed again. How could he tell her that his doubts had only swiveled around _her_? And his embarrassment about his feelings?

“They don't have a clue...” Too late, he realized he had already answered her question and it wouldn't do to put forward various reasons.

“So, Wrynn. Time for some more truths.”

_This_ was the moment Sylvanas had waited patiently for the whole evening. The hunter in her became aroused and vigilant. Would she finally get an answer to her most burning question: _why_ he did the things he did? So far, she had let him take the easy way out. Now, with a second beer he was already drinking in front of her eyes – which was stronger than the first one, she had made sure of by choosing it herself - she would not let the young king so easy off the hook.

He eyed her for some time, not knowing how to put his feelings into words, too confused about the current situation.

“I may have thoughts about us both... that aren't appropriate anymore.”

She snorted. “The boy-king at making flimsy excuses, it would seem.”

Her snide remark made him sharpen his tone. “I strongly protest, my lady.”

There was a look from her, a look he couldn't decipher.

“None of your excuses? What is _this_ , then?”

Anduin had to swallow. How could he explain his second condition had been a decision of the moment? He followed an intuition and the wish for spending more time with her, alone, perhaps in knowing he would never get another chance to make the both of them meet without their contingent of troops following in their steps, since they were officially at war. And it was not as if he had not taken into account that she may never agree to his second condition, much less that she would spend all six hours fully fulfilling their agreement. Neither did he know how to respond to all the feelings _she_ stirred in him. He groaned inwardly.

“ _This_ is simply another battle on lost ground.”

“Lost ground? - You are not lost. Otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here.”

“I would not?”

She smirked and leaned forward. “If you were lost, Wrynn, you would've never dared come here.” To make him react - knowing his aversion against prejudices - she continued. “You would've followed all the others telling you that I'm dangerous. That I'm not to be trusted. That I'm a cause without help.”

Anduin couldn't help but laugh shortly at her accurate description, his honesty getting through.

“You are all of that – and yet, when you are with me, I don't feel that you are anything like that. I wonder why... you show a different side. Here.”

It was a point he was mulling about for some time. It had started in the Stockades – no, it had started at the Arathi Highlands, when they had met shortly before the Gathering, and where he had expressed his hopes of meeting again another day and to speak of those things that could help both of their people. Which they had not spoken of, so far. But although her answer had been that she doubted it very much, she was here. In the Broken Keel Tavern. Alone. To meet with him.

Sylvanas, having an agenda, decided to answer him to keep the conversation going. “Because you chose to be the _first_ in a long line not to judge me, first and foremost?”

“I did?”

“You are still fishing for compliments from the warchief herself. _I_ wonder why.”

Anduin had to smile slightly but wasn't inclined to let on more. “Because I honor an opponent when I see one.”

“In such need for acknowledgement?”

That was indeed one of his weak points, fearing he was only acknowledged because he was his father's son. Time to try another angle to learn what else he was aching to know. “Will you give me an answer if I repeat my previous question...”

“Which question?”

Anduin hesitated shortly. “You said: 'I loved' – and then you stopped. Who were you thinking of?”

She eyed him over the table, taking another gulp of the green liquid. “You heard so many rumors. Dare make a guess?”

Was it the Skull Shocker that made her loosen her tongue? Anduin was surprised, having expected another tease but Sylvanas had spoken in earnest. He remembered Turalyon's words, about the Windrunner sisters having in common a preference for human males and cursed himself at the same time of not recalling it earlier... of course it must be her champion! Which meant the one spoken of was not only the one who fulfilled her desires but had her love, too. It answered indirectly his question. Which meant he never stood a chance...

Anduin's heart sank, but he replied. “The warchief's personal champion.”

Envy, a feeling which had seemed alien to Anduin until now, consumed him. It was hard to admit to himself - having been teased by Genn not that long ago about “ _that precious_ _queen of yours_ ” and answering him that she were not his - that he wished for it that she was now. _Light, what was he thinking_ ? It must be the beer that fueled his thoughts. It couldn't be anything else. And it was high time to stop playing with fire. He could _never_ lay claim to the Warchief of the Horde.

“Let's see... the boy-king is quick at correctly drawn conclusions.”

“You needn't have told me.”

“Isn't it obvious? You said yourself his name is in every gossip.”

“That doesn't mean it's true.”

“You're just too good to look at the obvious, Wrynn.”

“I'm not too good.”

“You are.”

He rolled his eyes which made her scoff: “A knight in shining armor.”

“You always come back to this – and I am not, I told you.”

“You are. Only too shy to admit it.”

He declined, which made her lean forward.

“The more interesting question is, why the knight in shining armor is not so shy around me, his enemy.”

Anduin's face was immediately flushed. “The key word is _comfortable_ , my lady.” There, he had found back to his humor. Yet, addressing this issue felt suddenly awkward.

“You never really admitted _why_.”

“Like you never admitted what went wrong with your sisters?”

“What is it about family you don't understand, Wrynn?”

Her sudden change towards an impatient tone made him clarify. “I understand the power of familial bonds, my lady. I...”

The piercing red eyes stayed on him when she didn't let him finish speaking. “You, dear Wrynn, are perhaps not the only one who was fighting for your family's love.”

Very calmly, Anduin picked up on her thread. “Your sisters still love you. - And they are within reach.”

Sylvanas leaned back. “They will be later, too.”

Anduin felt a bit relieved when she distanced herself and the tense atmosphere dropped. Although suspecting what was really in her head with 'later', he chose to say: “Not all is lost when they are alive. You can have them both alive and dead.”

“I wonder what you really know about _us_.”

“Only bits and pieces, that's why I hoped you would tell me more.”

“Long lives have a way to fade from memory.”

“Taking the easy way out, my lady?”

“Just copying your way of not answering _my_ questions.”

“I think I did more than you, just in case you want to compare.” He verified wryly.

“You didn't name any of your doubts, Wrynn.”

“I think I neither have the right nor the permission to speak freely.”

“You have.” Sylvanas responded with raised eyebrows, the twitch at her mouth obvious. She scooted forward. “You told me to be courageous, yet you are not.”

Anduin's heart skipped a beat, his mouth suddenly dry when he stared at her. He had permission... to speak freely?

Her twitch changed to a sassy grin. “A Wrynn made speechless – who would've thought.”

“I was... left with the impression you are still bound and in love.”

“Jumping the gun on taking the compliments back?”

He frowned. “No. I paid you compliments, my lady, but I was told I can never be as good as an elf. And no human is silly enough to think he can compare to an elf.”

“I had the impression you didn't care before.”

Light, he was truly treading on precarious ground tonight. Anduin felt confused and uncertain and he couldn't pinpoint her mood right now. What had changed after he had been outside? He realized also that the beer – stronger than his first one – really had an effect on him. If he was very honest to himself, he wanted to pay her more compliments, he wanted to charm her and he wanted to dance with her again... yet, in knowing she was taken, he hesitated because he was firstly taught to respect that and secondly, he feared his feelings weren't adequate anymore, to begin with. Nevertheless, the desire to do what he wished was still strong so he had to fight it down. Even trying to ignore it seemed impossible. Stop it, he told himself.

“So – I won't ask again. Why did you want to meet me here, on neutral ground? In a tavern?”

Piercing red eyes focused on him, her voice sounding close to abrasive. Demanding.

“What's your real purpose?”

“I...” Anduin's mouth was dry again.

“What is _this_ , boy-king?”

He remained silent. Heart beating fast, sweating. He felt dizzy and the tone of her voice changed again. Angry.

“Enough with evasive maneuvers, Wrynn. - Otherwise I'm _really_ gone.”

He was in the defensive. Anduin truly was. He closed his eyes. Would she always suspect he had ulterior motives? He felt for the Light in him, the only strength that stayed at his side. Hadn't _she_ called it a date? What was he to do? What could a possible answer be? _She_ was the reason for his confusion. He was on the edge of... confessing. Although he had no right to desire something that could never be his.

Still not satisfied with the answers given and not sure of his motives besides having a “date” with her, Sylvanas decided to corner him.

And as Anduin opened his eyes, he found himself face to face with two glowing eyes. When had she changed the chair, from the one opposite him to the one next to him, where she sat now, leaning over to him? The feeling of being a prey returned.

“I already told you -”

“You told me nothing. Why these six hours?”

“- to get to know you.”

“What for, because we both know all of this can only end in a battlefield?”

“I -”

“I trust you will not waste my time, Wrynn.”

“You came.”

“Only to get an answer for Areiel.”

“You got it. Yet, you're still here.”

“I know you may think differently, but I hold the end of my bargain.”

“So this is the final answer to my first question, is it not?”

Sylvanas knew that she had had him in her clutches, seconds before, and it deepened her anger that he had managed again to turn the tables. Oh no, she wasn't inclined to let him get off, this time.

“How fortunate for you that this is solved so quickly. Yet, I still don't have an answer to my question, Wrynn.”

“Do you even care for getting one?”

“I won't let you go before I have one. - And be careful, boy-king, because you're on enemies' territory here.”

“You are threatening me?”

“It is time someone does.”

The confusion on his face deepened.

“Make a move, Wrynn. It is time to act.” She hissed.

“I... ” - he eyed her - “I act the whole time.”

“Do you?” She snorted, still only inches away from him. “Like it matters-”

“To whom? You?” His laugh was joyless. “ _I_ don't matter in your eyes. For you, it's just a game, my lady.”

“Is it not for you, too, Wrynn? A game? Or shall I say testing waters? - The difference is you're not used to gamble when the stakes are high.”

Anduin dared to get another inch closer, his blue eyes flashing. “I don't gamble with you. - You would like to hear what this is all about? As if I haven't already told you over and over again? There's more to you than meets the eye. And I wanted to know what it is, if there's really  _more_  to the facade you're wearing and hiding behind, behind this stomping around, using your arguments like weapons and acting with airs and graces.”

The red eyes were piercing right through him. Hell, the young king was good at returning blow for blow and it made Sylvanas furious to no end that he was mocking her. Instantly, she was reminded of another meeting – their first, before the Gathering had begun - a meeting fraught with tension, resentment, and mistrust, which made her use a term she knew she had hurt him then... and that would hurt him now. “I am nothing of it, _little lion_. You are! Daring to intervene in others lives whether asked or not!”

“I did not...”

“You did!” She hissed at him. All the rage, it was there in her glowing eyes, yet, Sylvanas held her voice back being aware of the growing interest of the audience around them.

Anduin swallowed, feeling torn apart when faced with her fury on the one hand and with their closeness on the other. Well aware that she had used the term which had stung not that long ago, when they had first met on the Arathi Highlands. A term, used with warmth by Aerin, his former dwarven bodyguard, of whom he just had thought of earlier, and which he felt was used as an insult by Sylvanas now. She had mocked him with it in the Throne Room of Lordaeron as well. And it stung again. What did she do to him? How did she succeed to get through to him where no one had before? Should he leave?

He missed their kind moments while dancing, when she had flirted with him, teased him, gotten close to him, shown a softer part of herself. He didn't want to respond to her aggressive side but felt forced to. His muddled thoughts – from the beer? From the situation? - didn't make it easier.

“Don't be angry with me, Sylvanas.”

Anduinspoke, giving way, quietly, while he pressed the fingertips at his temples. Why did she not believe him? What had he done to fuel the conflict? Scaremongering? But how? All he had been was honest...

He looked up. “You cross-examine me. Why?”

There was a long silence where she continued to scrutinize him. Anduin was willing to stand her inquiries but he wanted to know why. He was here – because a night in the Stockades and his intuition had brought him here. Had _he_ been deceived by her? Had she lead him to believe he had her interest when nothing of that was there? Was it only a game they played and he lost? He wasn't adept at flirting and he wasn't adept at dealing with her, he realized with a certain disillusionment.

“You can't tell me you had no higher purpose coming here, Wrynn.”

His reaction was indignant. Disappointed. “You should not extrapolate from _you_ to _me_.”

Anduin shook his head, sensing this was the real end of their conversation. He was tired of fighting with her and at the same tired of fighting with his feelings.

“What is it that you expect me to do, Sylvanas? To have an army outside ready as soon as we leave the tavern? Do I have to remind you that we are on neutral ground here? Or do you think I have a secret plan to abduct you? Or lock you up? You think I am here and my only goal is to make a plan to betray you? It doesn't matter what I say or do, you will always find me guilty.” His blue eyes grew darker, when his sudden flare of anger turned into sadness that threatened to break through. No, he wouldn't force her to meet again in Lordaeron. It was the battlefield, then. He decided to go. _This was the end_.

“You fulfilled your part of the bargain, my lady. For this, you have my most sincere gratitude. - But this is the moment where our paths diverge and I bid you farewell.”

In one move, he stood to leave. The same moment, her iron clad grip closed over his wrist holding him back.

“Not so fast, Wrynn. It almost seems you want to flee again.”

Anduin, dizzy because of the strong beer, having stood up too quickly, stumbled and fell against her the instant she stood up to face him. In one rush, all those feelings that had been there while they danced were back. Blue eyes met red eyes. And Sylvanas saw it, as close as she was, standing in his way, watching him, his tears threatening to spill – and suddenly, she asked herself, wasn't his reaction this telling enough? The boy, so young, innocent to a certain extent, was he able to deceive her like all the others had done? Or not? Had she grown so cold, so used to mistrust that she judged him without proof, so ruthlessly driven that she could not see the other side of coldness anymore? She was reminded of Vereesa's emotional outburst which had been honest, too – not long ago - and which had touched her, more than she wanted to admit. She had been planning to bring her sisters down to her when the three of them met. But now, just like when she had stepped back from their killing, she felt shaken, too. She was undead. And still she was fighting with a living part of herself.

Anduin had found back his balance in the meantime, _seeing_ something change in her, too, how the shadows over her face slowly disappeared, the darkness retreated and the glowing eyes lost some of their piercing light.

And he took heart from this moment to kiss her. Warm lips touching cold ones. Tender. Trying to fit. Anduin had only wanted to know what she tasted like. How dare him to cross this line, was Sylvanas' first thought but the warmth and his tenderness, the tension between them she, too, could feel, didn't miss its effect on her, when she responded. The Skull Shocker's sharp and tingling taste was still present, but it mixed nicely with the taste of his last beer. Their kiss intensified -

Crash.

They came apart, the bar suddenly erupting around them leaving them staring in confusion as an airborne goblin came by and landed on their table, took Anduin's beer from over the table and threw it back to the other side of the bar. The pint clinked loudly as it fell to the floor, cracking and making people spray apart.

None of the two had noticed that the mood had slightly changed around them. Not a moment ago, in one corner of the taproom, a discussion had started. The music was still playing, but Wiley, the Innkeeper, having observed it, had already left his tavern to go for help. Unfortunately, it was a quiet evening in the town and the guards had moved back so the goblin had to search for them a while longer than usual. He couldn't have known how quickly the fight in his tavern escalated.

Caught by surprise, Anduin was still trying to make head and tails of what was going on when the tauren next to them jumped to their feet and roared. In an instant, Sylvanas had grabbed her empty bottle and was holding it ready, cursing herself for not having the bow and arrows with her when tables were knocked over and the music stopped playing for a moment, only to continue with a faster tune as to cheer the tavern's visitors on. There was an orc shouting: “...and one for when you want to kill something!” and also a dwarf loudly answering: “I won't fall for any bad pickup line. You've got to try two or three at least!” and then, all hell broke loose.

The flirt lines made Anduin smile. He was also intoxicated from the kiss and the adrenaline pumping through him, when he turned around and positioned himself before her, calling instinctively for the Light which answered him immediately ready to protect them both.

Fights had started everywhere. Some set upright, some on the floor, and when a chair came flying in their direction Anduin parried and was confused when a bottle shot forward at the same time to block another aggressor from the right side. He darted an surprised look towards the Warchief of the Horde only to discover her smirking at him.

“Better let me handle things, Wrynn.”

“Have you been in one of these before?”

“Yes.”

“I trust you.”

She placed herself in front of him to shield him with her stretched arm from another flying projectile. They ended with defending themselves in the wild chaos that had already broken out round them. Glasses clanged and burst, some punched others, some fled the scene, some stood still and some took advantage of the chaos to dive behind the counter and go for another drink – it was a complete mess. A deafening level of noise and yelling and bluster and curses, accompanied by the band's music. The air was thick with the alcohol spreading on the floor and smelled like a wild mixture of potions, cereals and grapes. A slight fog welled up and wafted slowly through the air.

Yet, it took not long before the first were going down, and Anduin who had preferred to dodge blows and getting out of the way of direct attacks – being reminded again that they were incognito here – and let Sylvanas have the honor of fighting, saw it. Knowing he was needed there.

He couldn't withstand to allow himself to slid one arm around her waist – Light, touching her female curves felt so good - and breathed quickly in her ear: “Be careful, Warchief.”

And just when he wanted to break away from her, she swiveled around and her hand, which had come to hold onto his arm shortly, captured him again. She held him back. “You stay with me.”

“You are not,” - two very blue eyes flashed at her when he put his hand above hers, gently removing it from his arm although the tone of his voice suggested otherwise - “You are not to hold me back.”

The long, elegant eyebrows frowned. “Time for us to get out of here.”

Anduin darted a short glance to her. “I let you fight. Let me heal.”

In one move, he slipped from her grasp on him and skidded over to the tables and broken chairs where he was needed. And left her behind, stunned, but still angry. It wasn't that she didn't respect his decision, having recognized that the king in him had spoken to her – and that he had boldly kissed her...

When he started to heal, all stayed well clear of his section where the Light glimmered. As if they respected what he did. And Anduin didn't stop at the Alliance's people. Quickly and effectively, as if he knew they had not much time, he healed Horde people as well, Sylvanas saw it. Wondering, not only about him but about herself when the forsaken girl from earlier stood in front of her. “The watchmen are coming.”

Sylvanas' cold hand grabbed him, while healing, and pulled at him. There was another voice beside her.

“Come along. There's a door which gets you both outside. Hurry!”

Anduin finished and followed, recognizing the urgency in the voice. It was the forsaken girl who had paid him a compliment. Since she had talked in Orcish, he answered her in the same language. “A forsaken who works here and helps us? What's your name?”

Glowing yellow eyes turned to him. “You know Orcish?”

“... but no Gutterspeak, my apologies.” Anduin answered. He would've loved to ask her after what Sylvanas had said to her earlier, but kept silent, while he followed the women behind the bar and entered a small room with another door and an opening in the bottom which she pointed at. It seemed goblins were prepared for all events.

“It's this way, the escape route ends on the other side of the craggy cliff. Hurry!”

Sylvanas only nodded towards her. “I won't forget, Sashya.”

Then, she climbed down and went, expecting Anduin to follow her.

He nodded towards the forsaken, too, when she hold him back. “Please bring the Warchief back to safety. She's not welcomed by all, here.”

Anduin only raised his eyebrows. She recognized Sylvanas? “I don't know who's protecting whom, but I will.” He climbed down, too.

“I won't forget, young king.”

Stunned, Anduin looked up at her. “You know who we are?”

A shade of a smile flew over her bony and pale face. “I know all customers here. - But I didn't know that a human and a forsaken could have a date. I am not blind, young king. Stay safe!”

Anduin smiled back when she closed the opening, having heard the shouts of the watchmen who had entered the taproom and turned around to hurry after the Warchief as she run down the dark and narrow corridor.


	8. returning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
> I am simply overwhelmed. Hundred kudos! Thank you all so much.  
> And a special thank you, _Sthefyz_ and _Estridde_ for leaving a comment!
> 
> _Windcage_ , you are the best.
> 
> We are back to the events of BfA... and I hope you like it.

 

SOMEWHERE IN A TUNNEL IN RATCHET

Anduin hit his head for the second time and groaned softly as he tried to follow the Warchief of the Horde as fast as he could. It was very dark in the narrow rocky tunnel and he was tired – the quick healing had taken a lot of his energy – and he wanted little but to get out of here, at least until a cold hand grabbed his.

“I should've known you are useless here, boy-king.”

“I am not.” He warded her off. “You should see me during daylight.”

“Humans.” Was all she snorted and dragged him behind her, his hand still in hers.

“You know, if we are going to our next date in Lordaeron, can I...?” He didn't get further with his teasing when she put her other hand over his mouth, coming to a sudden halt.

“There are goblins near the exit.” She whispered to him.

Of course, being an elf, she had the better hearing of them both. He remained silent and waited patiently, although the tiredness slowly took its toll on him. The air was sticky, too. When nothing happened for a while, he fumbled for the tunnel's wall behind him and hunkered down, leaning his head back. Yet, he still kept his other hand in hers because it felt good, being connected to her. Anduin closed his eyes, the quiet lulling him in. Light, he was exhausted. Emotionally and physically.

The forsaken girl's words shot through his mind, so he whispered: “You took one of your bats to come here?”

The glowing eyes looked down on him. “Making conversation, Wrynn?”

He simply pulled at her hand. “Come on.”

She smirked and let go of his hand, yet, she had seen how he had started to stagger the last steps and she recognized his tired voice. Bending down to him, she only shook her head.

“Trying to stall?”

“Sylvanas.” Was all he said, but she realized that by calling her again by her first name, he gave it a meaning. Reopened blue eyes glowed dimly at her. “Why did you cross-examine me?”

“To get an answer from you, Wrynn?”

“You got one many times. All you had to do was to listen.”

“I must've overheard them.”

“You won't admit you have doubts as well.”

Her tone changed to angry again. “I have nothing to admit, boy-king. You were the one who vanished after our dance.”

“Because you make me feel...,” He began to answer, not losing eye contact to her, “Something I can't define.”

The glowing eyes focused on him. “What a bad excuse,  _little lion_ ,” She mocked him, “Where is your bravery?”

Anduin didn't know if he was to push her away or to pull her closer. No, better not. He gritted his teeth, ignoring her teasing. He leaped up and moved forward, when another hard grip around his wrist made him swivel around to face her as she got to her feet, too.

“ _This_ , boy-king, is a kiss.”

Without advance warning, cold lips pressed on his lips and a cold body pushed his body back against the rocky wall to steady them. Anduin wanted to say something when a cold tongue darted into his opened mouth, exploring, searching for his tongue and playing passionately with its tip. Anduin's knees got weak again but he kissed her back. The same passionate way. Light, she made him hungry. She made him turned on at a moment's notice. She made him want more. And she knew how to constantly make him falter between thrills and defiance. When her grip on his wrists loosened, he put his hands in one move on her nice round ass, pressing her against him like she had done when they had danced to let her feel his desire. Caressing the curves wrapped in leather under his fingertips and squeezing the metal of her breast plate on his chest. And the one moan he elicited from her made him feel as if he would burst, hard as he already was. The intense and intimate kiss did nothing to make it better. He gasped when she broke away from him, already missing the cold tongue and the cold body against his overheated one. Without remorse, she pulled him after her.

“Now, Wrynn.”

Saying nothing, busy with keeping his composure, he just followed her guidance through the last distance in the dark tunnel, when – finally outside – she stopped, looking around, the dark sky above them, the crashing of the waves from the Sea somewhere down. The forsaken girl was right: they were on the other side of the craggy cliff. Since she stayed silent, Anduin felt himself compelled to speak.

“I promised to get you back to safety. You came with your bat?”

“The knight in shining armor finally talking?”

He only rolled his eyes. But she took him all the way up to the next cliff and whistled. Low flattering identified as her bat, which came by only to land graciously next to her, eyeing Anduin suspiciously. Sylvanas mounted and turned towards him.

“How will you return?”

Anduin knew she was about to leave, nevertheless he slightly smiled up to her. “I have a Hearthstone.”

“Attached to Stormwind?”

Her question surprised him but he nodded. “Thank you for...”

“Not one of your king's platitudes, Wrynn.” She interrupted him and inclined her head. “I'll see you soon.” 

And then, with one wing beat of her bat, she vanished in the starry sky, without looking back.

Anduin, staring after her, needed a moment to collect himself. She kissed him? And did her last remark imply... they were to meet again? Knowing her tendency to mock him whenever she could, he was completely baffled by the lack of it. Well. But dead tired as he was, now wasn't the right time to think things through. Anduin felt for his hearthstone and let the whirling catch him.

*

ORGRIMMAR

“Dark Lady.”

Sylvanas, back in her own garments from head to toe including her bow, felt better being her old self again. Slipping off her bat outside of Orgrimmar and after entering Grommash Hold, still with Areiel's cloak, she was greeted by her Ranger Captain who had waited for her. Now, she pushed the cloak back in the hands of its owner.

“Thank you, Areiel.”

“It fulfilled its purpose?” 

“It did.”

“He was there, as agreed.”

“Yes.”

“I suspected not less.”

Sylvanas who was on her way to the throne, turned around to her dark ranger. “I have much to do, Areiel.”

Areiel would've liked to ask a lot more, but preferred to restrict herself to what was necessary, seeing that her lady was in a difficult mood.

“Was your anger justified, my Dark Lady? I didn't mean to be the reason for such an inconvenience.”

Sylvanas eyed her Ranger Captain who still held the dark cloak in her hands. The young king's words were present again. When he had admitted he had saved her, knowing her dark rangers were her family. And Areiel – whose support she was completely certain of – was one of the closest, so should she not tell her the truth? She had even lent her her cloak, giving Sylvanas the possibility to pose as her, just in case.

“Areiel.” Sylvanas spoke in a calm voice. “No. My anger wasn't justified. I came by my own terms. And he saved you because it is in his nature to save lost sheep.” Here, a twitch on her mouth couldn't be overseen.

The Ranger Captain was surprised, but didn't let it on. “Sheep, my lady?”

Sylvanas smirked. “It's a human saying. The shepherd knows his sheep. He goes out and saves them all. Always. He's their guardian.”

For Areiel, imagining such a picture seemed odd – being for so long in the dark now -, but she hadn't forgotten all of nature's ways and her druidism when she had herself turned towards a devoted dark ranger. She got the meaning. And all she could do was nod, because the Dark Lady was right. The young king was a... guardian. A shepherd. He had saved her. From the dark side. There weren't many who had the faith to act in such selfless ways.

“Which means you are free from my debt now, my lady?”

“It was never a debt, Areiel. More a bargain.”

Sylvanas needed some time to think, but there was one thing left she wanted to ask of her faithful dark ranger, knowing it was a good opportunity. “If I were to send you into enemy's land, Areiel...”

“Wherever you want me to go, my lady.” Came as a decided reply. Sensing what the Warchief aimed at, the Ranger Captain added: “Even into Stormwind.”

“A message.”

There was no hesitation in the answer. “To him, of course.”

“Yes.”

“When shall I go?”

“Let's see, Areiel. - Stay secret about this.”

Areiel had a twitch at her mouth, exactly like Sylvanas. “You needn't have asked me, my lady.” She bowed. “Whenever you are ready, I'm at your service.”

“Your experience will be needed.”

Areiel still smirked. “I thought so. But  _he_ won't be a problem.”

“No?”

The smirk stayed. “I already met the young king and I think – he will wait for me.” With these words, Areiel turned around and left Grommash Hold in the quiet Sylvanas had yearned for. The night would find her sitting on the warchief's throne, brooding about her actions and about consequences she had  _never_ taken into consideration.

The kick not only from the Skull Shocker but from another taste as well was still there.

*

STORMWIND

His quarters were dark as Anduin entered them, illuminated only by the light of the moon. It should have been a sign, but he was both tired and thrilled and with his thoughts elsewhere. A shadow that had seemed perfectly ordinary a moment earlier moved and stepped into his way.

“And where have you been?”

Anduin, knowing the voice, smiled. “In a tavern, Valeera.”

“The Lion's Pride Inn?”

“No. The Broken Keel Tavern.”

“The one... in Kalimdor?”

“Yes.”

Valeera Sanguinar was a beautiful, small blood elf with blonde hair, preferring her garments to be red, and she was the young king's personal spy now. And his friend. She had served his father in that capacity, too – fighting alongside Varian, being a companion, saving their lives and therefore pledging her loyalty to House Wrynn - and she had always helped Anduin when he needed messages delivered that had to be kept secret. Anduin trusted his Spymaster to a certain extent, knowing Mathias Shaw always acted in the best interest of the kingdom, but not in the best interest of the young king, because there were things Anduin wanted to be handled differently.

Valeera watched him attentively. Bright eyes, a bit flushed, smiling. Almost... radiant?

“You had a date?”

Anduin didn't lose his smile. “Better to say, I had a fight. But a good one.”

Confusion stood in her eyes. “You had what?”

“Valeera... can I go to bed now or do you have something you wish to share with me?”

“Since you don't share with me -,” Valeera put on a hand on his shoulder, “I'll take a shot in the dark. You met Wrathion?”

“Wrathion? No.” Anduin shook his head. “I haven't heard from him... I don't know. It's not important anymore.”

“So who is he? Or is it a she?”

“Take a wild guess, Valeera.”

Valeera looked at him and sighed, knowing his tone well. “Alright. You can keep your secret date. - But promise me the next time you disappear without saying a word, you will let me know where you are. Somebody should know, at least.”

“Yes, sir.” Anduin couldn't resist to salute but swayed a bit. The strong beer's effect still lingered. _And_ the taste of the Skull Shocker.

She eyed him suspiciously. “How much beer did you have?”

“Valeera-,” Anduin sighed and yawned at the same time, “I know you worry but can we just drop this and you tell me why you are really here?”

She sniffed at his clothes, but although Anduin flinched back, it was to no avail.

“I smell... a lot of alcohol and a lot of strange smells. Strong. Unpleasant – Anduin what did you get yourself mixed up to?”

Anduin didn't want to have another discussion. “I'm tired. Valeera?”

Just then, she realized his dark clothes in the moonlight. Nothing worthy of a king on him.

“You went incognito?”

“It is a neutral tavern.”

“What did he or she make you do?”

He sighed, giving in. He had enough of cross-examinations. “ _She_ did nothing. We fell into a bar fight. That's all.”

She stared at him. Speechless. And shook her head. “You have a knack for getting yourself in dire situations. - Speaking of, there's another dire situation.”

All Anduin wanted was to go to bed. Be alone, think of her and revive emotions. Dream. Sleep. Alas, it wasn't to be.

“Tell me, Valeera.”

Anduin lit a candle, poured himself a glass of water and drank after serving Valeera a glass of wine, thirsty as he was and feeling the need to sober up.

He had, for a whole evening, had the chance to forget about all of this. To dive into another world. Anduin sighed. It was time to leave dreaming and return to reality. Back to being king. And yet – when he had the memories of dancing with her, of talking and of kissing, they had left traces. A treasure he was sure he would carry his whole life with him.

“You are still thinking of her.”

Anduin sat down at the table and brushed through his hair. “I am really exhausted, Valeera. I am also confused. And excited.” He admitted and shook his head. “And I don't know what to make of it.”

Valeera had watched him, smiling a bit. “She really got under your skin, hm?”

Anduin just smiled back and drank another glass of water.

“She's not a human, then.” The elf concluded, lightly, observing him.

It made Anduin almost choke and he coughed. By the Light, if it was so easy for Valeera to draw the right conclusion, he really had to take care to stay silent about this in the future.

“It seems I am on the right track.” Valeera commented upon seeing his reaction. “And since you met her in a neutral tavern in Kalimdor and kept secret about this, I dare say she's from the Horde, my dear king.”

“Valeera.” Anduin put the glass down and pressed the fingertips at his temples. He was weary. “You are my friend. Can you just leave it at this? I promise I will tell you the next time I am on my way. In the meantime, I would like to hear about the other dire situation.”

Valeera grinned at him but nodded. “You ordered me to check on Princess Talanji and the situation in Zuldazar.” And in short words, she tried to give him the broad outlines.

*

STORMWIND KEEP

Anduin was kept very busy the next two days and had not much time to dwell on other things. The arrival of High Commander Halford Wyrmbane and a delegation of others was announced to him in the middle of his afternoon meeting with the representatives of the Noble Houses and so, he decided to adjourn it, happy to have an excuse to flee the boring discussions evolving around the Kingdom of Stormwind.

He came to greet Wyrmbane and his companions in the Throne Room where he had ordered them to be escort to since he wished to speak with them personally. Next to the High Commander of the 7 th Legion stood Shandris Feathermoon, night elf and General of the Sentinel Army, Magister Umbric, one of the Silvermoon exiles and one of Lady Alleria Windrunner's most trusted void elves, the human John J. Keeshan, the gnome Kelsey Steelspark, the dwarf Falstad Wildhammer, member of the Council of the Three Hammers, and the Alliance's champion.

Wearing the king's outfit, Anduin spoke official words. “You all have spearheaded a long campaign against a relentless foe. What's more, you have faced the Horde with courage... and honor. I wish I could say our work was done, but there remains much more ahead of us. I fear the days shall grow darker... before they can grow brighter.”

Anduin had to swallow and to remind himself to separate war from personal things.

Halford Wyrmbane stepped forward. “King Wrynn.” He cleared his throat. “Let's hope for brighter days. We came to tell you about the successful completion of the Alliance's war campaign and the Spymaster's list of Horde priority targets you signed.”

Anduin listened patiently to all that the High Commander of the 7 th Legion had to say. It was necessary, these steps, because they were at war whether he liked it or not. Since he had not been successful in his private talks with the Warchief of the Horde so far, he had to go through all of this. Would  _he_ ever be, successful? Or was he just fooling himself? No, right now it was better to ban her from his thoughts.

The High Commander was supported by Shandris Feathermoon, who had led and executed a lot of the orders by herself. She was just coming to their last – and most important – part. “Your majesty, we also did prepare for a full invasion of Zuldazar to capture their king, according to our plan that was approved by you, too. We succeeded in sabotaging key locations of their harbor defenses with 'remote' detonated bombs.”

Falstad Wildhammer joined her explanation. “We got the job done right, your majesty, so the Zandalari won't know that we've rigged their defenses to explode.”

And Kelsey Steelspark added: “We wait to detonate them until the moment our fleets arrive. The city would be in chaos, allowing us to make landfall, your majesty.”

Keeshan was the next to speak. “Yet, there was a ship we didn't account for. The one that was stationed in Pandaria, its route taking it within eyesight of our outpost in Xibala. - And it happened as we predicted, they were right on the coast and on to us, so we decided to prepare a surprise strike. Thanks to Magister Umbric,” here he turned towards the Void elf, “we moved to the boat 'The Gral's call' with a Void Portal.”

Shandris Feathermoon picked up Keeshan's thread. “The Zandalari Captain Zalkran was attempting to flee to Zuldazar to inform his superiors about our presence, but Falstad and I subdued him.”

Wyrmbane assisted her now and expressed general outrage. “He called us 'Alliance dogs' and wanted to be killed, but we took him prisoner and brought him to the Stockades now. - He thought he would be freed from our jail, just as they had done with Princess Talanji and Zul the Prophet, but I said I would love to see them try.”

The group then laughed, but Anduin preferred to smirk, remembering well his city in flames, the following chaos and also seven Alliance's vessels lost.

Wyrmbane continued. “We rigged the Zandalari ship to explode once everyone was out.”

Keeshan nodded. “And what an explosion it was!”

Kelsey, who stood next to him, nodded, too. “Our favorite part!”

Anduin remained calm while he spoke his next words as the Alliance's High King. “The Alliance must ask even more of you. It is clear that we cannot hope to end the warchief's reign until we sever her ties to the Zandalari. That day will come... soon. But for now, at least, know that you all serve as an inspiration to those around you. And for that, heroes, you have my thanks.”

Anduin straightened. “For the Alliance!” And his call was repeated by the whole group.

It was then that Spymaster Shaw entered. He had returned with the High Commander, but upon knowing the events, chosen to join the conversation later.

“Welcome back, Master Shaw.” Anduin greeted him friendly.

“Your majesty.” Shaw stepped forward. “We bring good news from Kul Tiras. Master Greymane succeeded in getting Lady Katherine Proudmoore to search for her daughter. Lady Jaina is now back in Boralus and is promoted as the new Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras which is why I am also here, to present you the official invitation.”

Shaw handed him a handwritten document with the official Kul Tiran stamp which Anduin accepted and opened.

“Already tomorrow?”

Shaw nodded. “The Kul Tirans are not ones to postpone important things, your majesty.”

Anduin smiled. “Since these are good news, there is no need to, either.”

The Spymaster kept a straight face. “May I talk to you privately, your majesty?”

“You may.” Anduin answered him, sighing inwardly. His quiet days were gone, now.

High Commander Wyrmbane took advantage of the situation to retreat, and the others followed him. “Light be with you, King Wrynn.”

“Light be with you all, High Commander. Thank you for reporting to me.”

Anduin realized that Shandris Feathermoon, who would've liked to have the opportunity as well to address him personally, hesitated, but finally decided to drop it after looking shortly at Mathias Shaw. Anduin smiled to her upon catching her short glance and nodded, which made her follow the others. It was telling him that she had stayed secret about him saving Ranger Captain Areiel. Loyalty and trust. Anduin was glad to have it.

Shaw's remark brought him back. “I've heard a lot of alarming news from the Horde, your majesty.”

Anduin only raised his eyebrows, waiting for him to speak.

“First of all, there was an incident in Orgrimmar. The Warchief herself must have lost her temper upon receiving a message. We assumed that one of the Horde's campaigns must have failed. - I also learned that the dark ranger that was on our list is still undead. General Feathermoon told me, after I interviewed her, that they had a very hard fight and the dense fog limited the visibility. The dark ranger seemed to have faked her own death-”

“It is needed a certain degree of knowledge to know when an undead is really _dead_ under those circumstances.” Anduin argued with a deadpan expression.

“\- when her orders were found and she was left behind, she must have gone straight back to her Warchief.” Shaw finished and regarded him blankly.

Anduin had a hard time to suppress a grin and looked down to the floor. He dared not imagine what might have happened, that Sylvanas was told whom Areiel met? But then, Shaw's report meant there was an Alliance spy back in Orgrimmar. Yes, they were very much still at war.

“...your majesty?”

Anduin came back from his musings and looked up. “Yes?”

He earned a scrutinizing view from his Spymaster but stayed very calm.

“The Horde was also seen on Kul Tiras, your majesty.”

Of course. He was certain that Sylvanas wanted to know how Jaina managed there. It was just a question of time before she was told that the Alliance had a new ally. And it also wasn't that the Horde didn't try to achieve the same as the Alliance did in Zandalar... so much wasted resources. Instead of working together, working against. So much wasted possibilities, so much wasted...

“Your majesty's thoughts are seemingly elsewhere. May I ask where before I continue?”

Anduin allowed himself a smile, speculating shortly about how shocked Mathias Shaw would be if he told him the truth. To cover his musings, Anduin slipped into – how had Sylvanas named it? - 'king's platitudes'. “I was very glad to hear that Jaina succeeded in the end, Master Shaw, that not all of my fears were confirmed. That we are to sail over to Kul Tiras tomorrow and to welcome Jaina officially back in the Alliance. And that we have new old allies.”

Mathias Shaw's scrutinizing look lingered on him, but he nodded. “These are good news indeed, your majesty, especially in these times.” He hesitated, shortly. “There are startling news from Zandalar. - It seems that King Rastakhan's council is corrupt and the kingdom faces threats from multiple places, the Blood Trolls, suspicious behavior from General Jakra'zet and internal political plotting...”

Although Anduin knew part of it from Valeera, he listened closely to what the Spymaster had to report.

*

ORGRIMMAR

Sylvanas had been busy as well, saddled with a long list of duties which were not her favorite part of being Warchief, but she endured it all. The more was she pleased to welcome her champion back into Orgrimmar. Nathanos - who had returned along with Lilian Voss, new forsaken members like Thomas Zelling, a former Tidesage and Captain Amalia Stone, a former Guard Captain of Bridgeport, both from Kul Tiras, Chief Telemancer Oculeth, a nightborne and Hobart Grapplehammer, a goblin - was eager, too, to report and share some other news in private to his queen.

“Nathanos, my champion.” Sylvanas looked at him, as always, proud of his appearance, the dark hair, the red eyes, the beard and the superb clothes which suited him fine. She specifically stood up from the throne to meet him in the middle of the throne room.

He bowed before her. “My queen.”

There was a breeze of a touch from her when she brushed his shoulder with her fingertips which perplexed him.

“Tell me of your campaign, Nathanos.” She said to him, when he straightened up. “I want to know.”

In passing, she nodded towards the others while she walked straightaway to the small chamber behind the throne room and, after Nathanos followed her, she let the curtain fall so everybody knew they wanted to talk in private.

Sylvanas stepped forward and took his chin in her hand. “My champion, good for you to return.”

He watched her, the eyebrows raised. “What is it that you desire from me this time, my queen?” The way she acted was unusual. “Is it with utmost urgency? Who's on your list?”

She wanted to add: “Me.” but she stayed silent, suddenly affected by her own behavior. A smile shot through her thoughts, and it was not his. A smile, belonging to a young man with bright blue eyes. It went from mischievous to just a simple smile. And it was always directed at her. Her hand fell, and she was shocked about herself.

“My queen?” Nathanos had noticed that something had changed and looked to her with expectant eyes, the dark and bushy eyebrows still raised.

“It's not of importance right now.” Was her answer, stepping back. “For now, report to me what happened in Kul Tiras.”

And this, he did.

After a while, bathing in the Warchief's exclusive attention, they were disturbed. Another request required Sylvanas' presence in the throne room, and while Nathanos was used to her postponing all other things until the two of them were finished with their talk, he saw her this time giving in and excusing herself while leaving him alone in the small chamber.

“We'll speak about it later, Nathanos.”

Her behavior puzzled him to no end when he glanced after her. Had her last remark sounded almost... relieved? He  knew her well. There was  _something_ that bothered her. Something which she didn't share with him. The question was why? Always had she told him what was on her mind. That she did not so, concerned  _him_ . And for the first time, he was inclined to ask... what had happened in his absence? An incident he didn't know of, being in Kul Tiras longer than he had wanted to be? He had already heard some rumors, of what went wrong. Not only about the warfront in Stromgarde, but about Nazmir, too.

To top it all, in the background of his mind was still the memory of her dubious reaction, after she had been retrieved by the Horde from the Stockades in Stormwind. He had first suspected that she wasn't content with the way they had freed the other prisoners. Yet, he had never asked her what had happened  _before_ . Suspicions suddenly rose in him. He had to have clarity.  _He_ was the one who knew all about his Queen. Nobody else. All of a sudden, something like resentment had him in its grip – although Nathanos wouldn't admit it to himself. Lack of knowledge made him angry. He would find out. He was good in such things. And even if it meant he had to turn Orgrimmar upside down. 

Having watched his queen in silence the rest of the day, he finally found a start. When she talked shortly to Areiel, he observed the looks they exchanged, and he discovered looks on a more personal basis that lingered longer he had ever seen before, which made him go after Areiel first. He had trained them, his queen's dark rangers. What made it the more interesting was that he knew the Ranger Captain had been ordered to stay in Nazmir, but had returned earlier.

“Areiel.” He hold her back. “What happened in Nazmir while I was absent?”

Raised eyebrows turned towards him. “Nothing that concerns you, Blightcaller. - Besides, didn't you have a talk with the Warchief herself?”

He pulled, harder. “Out with it, Areiel. Do not test me.”

Glowing eyes pierced back at him. “I only answer to the Dark Lady.”

He did not let her go. “How dare you?! I was informed we lost important supplies in Nazmir due to the Alliance and I heard there was a fight. This mission had been supervised by you and you failed! What went wrong?”

Areiel stopped short. Something wasn't right with the Blightcaller's behavior but it was difficult to pinpoint it. He usually talked business and nothing else. Suddenly, another human was on her mind. The young king who had saved her, who had saved an enemy – and with him the certainty that it was something the Blightcaller would've never done, if she were from the Alliance. She wasn't even certain he would've done it being part of the same faction. Although he was the Warchief's personal champion, he had no authority over her obedience. It made her angry that he demanded it and determined to lie to him.

“We were ambushed. And I've met Shandris Feathermoon there. We fought against each other but there was also a time we fought together, over thousands of years ago, in a war. Elves keep together, so she let me go.”

He searched her face, Areiel knew it, but she kept calm and steady.

“Try not to get yourself killed again.”

“I won't.” Areiel's answer was final when she slipped from his hold and turned around. Something inside her told her that Sylvanas had kept silent about some happenings. Including the young king. Yet, her loyalty was pledged to her Dark Lady.

Nathanos looked after her. “Hmmmm.” There was something she was not telling him. And she wasn't the only one, it seemed. He had to search for more information elsewhere. Nathanos had a knack for going where he was not wanted and rooting out others who tried to do the same.  _He_ was the warchief's closest advisor. And he preferred it to stay it that way.

The very late evening in Orgrimmar would find Sylvanas brooding again, voicing the wish to stay in the throne room. Alone. Had it not gone the way she had always wanted it? The Horde was on its way to be successful, to claim what was theirs, to win the Zandalari, and once they had the fleet of their new allies at their disposal, she could direct the offensive over to the Eastern Kingdoms. The Arathi Highlands.  _Stormwind_ . They all would fall... 

Suddenly, the taste in her mouth started to get dark and bitter. Used to the taste of ashes and much worse, that of nothing - which was why she could understand that the Forsaken loved their Skull Shocker - and... again, the taste of bitterness returned. Head in both of her hands, Sylvanas tried to suppress another thought to rise by all available means, but it wouldn't do.

A kiss. Answered as passionately as she had started it. She had felt his reaction, the way he had touched her possessively. Him hardening against her. She had bathed in the power he gave her, letting her know. And it was a power she suddenly craved more than anything else.

*

KUL TIRAS, BORALUS

Upon arriving in Boralus' harbor, the weather had been better this time. Sunshine and clouds alternated, yet, the temperatures were low. A view to the nearby mountains showed their tops snowcapped. Anduin was glad to be dressed in full armor and his tabard. Seeing the city behind the Great Gate for the first time, he realized that it was beautifully built, a town whose inhabitants lived and breathed for the life on sea. The Kul Tirans were friendly, but guarded. While crossing one of the many bridges spanning the Boralus canals, he was reminded of his own hometown. Smells of fish and salty air intensified when they walked towards the Unity Square where the official ceremony took place which he was looking forward to. Having met Genn shortly and seeing that he was in a good mood confirmed his assumption that Lady Katherine Proudmoore and him had entered into a close friendship, just as Anduin had wished it. And Jaina wasn't as pale as before, even smiling. There was more sureness in her now when the group went along.

The Unity Square was located on the western part of the city of Boralus and was a plaza celebrating the unity of the four ruling houses of Kul Tiras. It was already occupied by a lot of people when Anduin arrived – mostly Proudmoore Guards, Waycrest Guards and Tidesages along many of the city's population. Two young men stood close by. Tandred Proudmoore, Jaina's brother and Brannon Stormsong, a member of one of Kul Tiras' ruling houses, House Stormsong. In the middle, on the formidable circle which symbolized a wind rose, Brother Pike, Lucille Waycrest, Lady Katherine Proudmoore and Lady Jaina Proudmoore with the Alliance's champion lined up. Anduin, his Lion's Guards behind him, neared the circle, too. There was utter silence when Lady Katherine Proudmoore began to hold a little speech while walking around.

“Thank you all for coming! I shall keep this brief. Division has made us vulnerable. We are beset by enemies from within. The Horde, too, had made its intention clear. Those savages would see us burn. - I ask you now to put faith in my daughter Jaina... the true Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras.”

Here, Lady Katherine turned shortly towards Anduin. “And to renew our bond with the Alliance, whose heroes have saved us from our own unmaking. - What say you?”

Lucille Waycrest stepped forward and kneeled before Katherine, who stood next to her daughter. “House Waycrest stands with you, Lord Admiral. And with the Alliance.”

Brother Pike joined. “The Storm's Wake shall guide the fleet to victory for the Alliance, as we have before.” He kneeled, too, in front of both women.

Jaina was completely moved. “Thank you... all of you. I will do everything I can to prove my worthy of your trust.”

Her words allowed Anduin to walk towards the group. “I am pleased and honored to welcome Kul Tiras back into the Alliance. May the Light guide us to victory.”

Lady Katherine Proudmoore nodded towards him. “King Wrynn, there is someone you should meet. Along with your champion,  _she_ was instrumental in saving our kingdom... and my life.”

A young woman entered the circle where all stood close together and came to stop in front of Anduin. “It is an honor to meet you, King Wrynn. I'm Taelia. Taelia Fordragon.”

Anduin was stunned for a moment, not only by her last name but also because Taelia was a beautiful human woman with dark short hair, very intense green eyes and a nice smile. “Fordragon?!”

“Daughter of Bolvar. Fostered under our protection since the Third War.” Lady Katherine Proudmoore explained while Taelia kneeled before him.

Anduin's voice grew warm when he turned towards her. “Taelia... please, rise. The honor is mine.”

Taelia stood up, moved like him. She spoke in a delicate and soft way. “Did you know my father?”

Anduin answered her immediately, his voice still filled with warmth. “Highlord Bolvar was a great man. A true hero to the Alliance...” - he had to swallow shortly - “and to me.”

He gestured with his hands. “I remember now... he used to write you letters. He had a nickname for you...”

Taelia repeated at once. “My shining star.” Her face grew sad. “The letters stopped coming. I... I have so many questions.”

Anduin smiled at her, and it was a real and genuine smile. “Taelia, when time permits, you must come to Stormwind as my guest. I have many stories to share about your father.”

Taelia smiled back for a tiny moment, showing a part of her natural charm, then she bowed and returned to the ranks of the Proudmoore Guards. Anduin's look followed her.

It didn't take long to finish the ceremony, and then all were on their way to celebrate Jaina's new position, the High King of the Alliance alongside the old and new Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras.

The following official festivity took place in Proudmoore Keep, a large castle and palace in the middle of Boralus. Anduin hadn't planned on staying long, knowing how much work still waited for him in Stormwind. And knowing Genn was here and represented the Alliance, too, made him inclined to leave earlier. Nevertheless, he took part on the festive banquet, overwhelmed by the Kul Tiran hospitality. Since Kul Tiras' shores possessed good fishing and provided ample seafood, there was excellent lobster and king crab served among other various sea specialities, which Anduin was fonder of than the various dishes of wild game. Good wine – white and red - was served plentifully. Rich was also the choice of desserts, delicious fruits and bombastic cakes and diverse puddings made it hard to choose and spoiled the palates.

Anduin who usually enjoyed the occasion's delight and the people partaking, felt a bit estranged. They were still at war. And he still was nowhere closer to his goal to achieve peace. He didn't know why, but he was haunted again by his responsibilities, burdens and by the losses. After the exuberant meal - while eating there had been music and presentations of Kul Tiran cultural heritage to entertain the guests - Genn had the chance to slip next to Anduin who was already thinking of leaving soon.

“My king.”

The young king turned pleased towards him. “Genn. It is good to see you again.”

And it was. Somehow, Stormwind was a bit emptier without the elder man around to keep him company. And his mind was way too often in a tavern in Kalimdor.

The Worgen's eyes focused on him. “You look tired again, Anduin.”

Anduin smiled. “There's a lot that's on my mind.”

“I heard you were successful in saving your young soldier.”

“Private James? Yes, I was. He's back safe and sound in Stormwind in the arms of his mother.”

“So what else is keeping you busy?”

“Politics and war, Genn. Not my favorite part, as you know.”

“But we have new allies at present.”

Anduin's look wandered over to the two Proudmoore ladies who were preoccupied with making small talk to all guests, and nodded. “Yes, we have.”

“Something else is bothering you.”

Should Anduin be surprised that Genn knew him well enough?

“It's her?” Genn's questioning look roamed towards Taelia Fordragon who was on the other side of the large room. “Taelia played a very big part in helping the Kul Tirans. She was deeply invested in all operations. She's a gutsy lady who took any risk.”

Anduin's smile broadened. “Trying to look for a bride for me again, Genn?”

A well-known snort was his answer. “Since you seem incapable of doing it, someone has to.”

“I told you, I am determined to marry for love.”

“Well, I think Taelia embodies a lot what's on your list of love.”

“She does?”

“A beautiful young woman, Anduin? Who has a heart, too? Who is acting as bravely and kindly as you often do? She would make a formidable queen, loved by your subjects and a good mother to your children.” Genn grinned. “She would tease you and not take you too seriously. Acting in a reasonable way when you are not -”

“I am not acting unreasonable, Genn.” Anduin interrupted.

Genn's grin deepened. “Yes, I would say she is a very good match for you. She would also teach you to behave.”

“Behave?” Anduin's eyebrows shot up. But then, a moment in a tunnel was present. And how he had shown anything but good behavior, let his instincts take over, being intoxicated both from the beer and _her_ kissing him... Anduin blushed and averted his eyes. Light, what was it that only Sylvanas could wake in him? A wild side he hadn't had the guts to acknowledge, yet? A passion in him she connected with? The confusion about her wasn't gone, when Genn's hand landed on his shoulder.

Genn bend down and whispered amused in his ear: “I am expecting a wedding in the spring. And I would love to act as the father who makes the entry, having Taelia on my arm, into the church to hand her over to you.”

Seeing Lady Katherine Proudmoore nearing them, Anduin was relieved for not having to answer.

Genn, upon seeing her, nodded, still grinning. “Katherine. He's all yours.”

Katherine smiled towards the Worgen and nodded, sitting down when Genn offered her his chair.

“King Wrynn.”

“Lady Katherine Proudmoore.”

“Can we speak – somewhere else? In private?”

Anduin who had managed to keep his composure, nodded smiling. “Of course, Lady Proudmoore. - Is it about Jaina?”

“No. Something more personal.”

He nodded again, and followed her after leaving the great hall through multiple corridors to the wing of private chambers, a bit away from the official hustle and bustle. The guards closed the door after them. Upon arrival she offered him a seat but Anduin declined.

“This is a very peculiar situation, King Wrynn, and I want neither Jaina nor Tandred to know of it.”

Anduin remained silent.

“When the Horde was here, over there in Plunder Harbor – they aren't right now, I was told they returned to Kalimdor – they found something very special to me.”

Anduin was a bit confused. “The Horde, Lady Katherine?”

Katherine sighed. “I don't know how and where and who, but they found Derek's body.”

The young king raised his eyebrows.

“They wanted to trade it, but the transfer went horribly wrong. The Horde murdered my people and set two of our ships on fire. - In the end, they took _him_ with them.”

Just in this moment, somebody knocked at the door and Katherine continued speaking. “I took the liberty of requesting assistance of your Spymaster in this matter. - Come in!”

Anduin didn't know if he should be honored that she took matters in her own hands or if he should be concerned that she asked Shaw for help, but he put his arms behind his back and waited.

“Master Shaw, please enter. Speak your terms.”

“Lady Proudmoore. Your majesty.” He nodded to them both.

Shaw spoke when Katherine had taken place at her desk. “I was successful, Lady Proudmoore. My spies informed me that the Horde took indeed the body of Derek Proudmoore with them - to Dazar'alor.”

“To Zandalar?” Echoed Katherine.

“The Zandalari have not yet pledged their loyalty to the Horde - as you had suspected – so I don't know why they made a stop there but I assume it is because the Horde's best champion is helping them a lot.” Shaw continued.

“But what can be done to retrieve Derek's body? He deserves a proper burial. It's bad enough that Daelin lies somewhere else. I want my eldest son home.” Katherine answered, hard.

Anduin, trying not to wonder too much about what the Horde had wanted to achieve with the body of the eldest child of the Proudmoores, and suspecting the worst, listened to their speculations. When they came to no result, he intervened.

“I don't know if I am able to enter with the Zandalari into negotiations, but I'll try.”

“Negotiations?” Katherine turned towards him as if realizing that the young king was present, too. “But we have literally nothing to offer the Zandalaris... I was told they build their own ships, like we do, too. And they are proud and one of the eldest trolls here on Azeroth.”

Shaw nodded. “Which also means we can't arrange anything with money.”

Silence followed.

Anduin thought about all he had been informed about in the last days. Then, he took a deep breath. “I might have an idea about how this could work...”

Lady Katherine Proudmoore looked up, with hope. “You have, King Wrynn?”

Anduin nodded. “A Zandalari Captain is imprisoned in the Stockades right now. High Commander Wyrmbane captured him. Perhaps I can offer him as an exchange. Since the trolls are very proud people they would want him back.”

Shaw's face was still hesitant. “Do you think it wise to sail over to them and just offer a prisoner for an exchange, your majesty?”

“No.” Anduin answered. “But right now this is the only possibility I see.”

“I am giving rise to particular concern, your majesty. First of all, this is enemies' land -”

“It's not Horde's territory, yet.”

Shaw's voice shot up. “- and you will step into the wolf's den, your majesty!”

Katherine leaned forward, intervening as well. “I don't want to get you in danger, King Wrynn.”

Anduin shook his head. “If we don't act now, this is a lost case, Lady Proudmoore.” He would have loved to point out what could be expected to happen to the body the longer they waited but took refuge in a general formulation. “And as I understand it, it is of utmost importance to get the body back because time is not on our side...”

“The political situation in Zandalar is very unstable at the moment, your majesty.”

“I know, Master Shaw. You told me about it.” Anduin's voice sharpened a bit. “But you know as well as I do that, the longer we allow ourselves to wait the stronger is the chance the Zandalari will strengthen ties with the Horde. They are dependent on them and once that alliance is closed - then, there is nothing that can be done anymore.” Not to speak of what could happen once the Alliance started the siege of Zuldazar, he thought to himself. “No, I will go and try now.” 

But Shaw wasn't one to easily give in. “Why does your majesty insist of going himself? We could send a negotiator...”

“And who would that be, Master Shaw? Who's suited to deal with King Rastakhan himself?” 

Silence was his answer.

“This is no solution,” Shaw insisted, “neither a less-than-ideal solution, your majesty. May I remind you of...?”

“You may not,” Anduin turned towards him, determined, “It is important that the High King of the Alliance presents himself and enters into negotiations, Master Shaw. And that is me.”

Anduin held up a placating hand. “And no – it is decided!”

He spoke with all the authority he could muster. He was already tired of this discussion. If someone was able to bring the body back, it was him. And nobody else. He knew it was risky, but wasn't also this whole war, this madness?

The young king didn't wait any longer and, excusing himself with the need to return to political business, he bid farewell to Lady Katherine Proudmoore. He had no desire to stay longer and it was best to avoid having to say good bye to all the others. Especially to Genn, who wouldn't have liked the plan either. Yet, Anduin felt forced to do this. And  _he_ was the king. 

Some moments later, the 'Wind's Redemption' sailed peacefully into the darkening night and back towards Stormwind harbor, Anduin standing beside Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth at the wheel of the ship, staring at the horizon. Meeting Taelia Fordragon rose memories of Bolvar Fordragon. How he always had been protected by the noble human while he served as the Regent of Stormwind, following his father's disappearance. Cared for by the paladin who had temporarily acted like a substitute father to Anduin. He had sensed not only Bolvar's kindness in Taelia, but also Bolvar's bravery - which he had always admired him for - since Taelia was obviously the one responsible for saving Lady Katherine Proudmoore and helping the Alliance's champion. That Kul Tiras joined the Alliance, was due to her, too.

And what did the Warchief do, right now? Turalyon's words run through his tired mind. 'But no one can truly know another's heart. You have to make the best call with the information you have – and your own instincts.' His mind wandered to Ratchet. And to dancing. And to kissing. He couldn't suppress a smile. It was the only positive thing that held him upright. The memory he carried with him and nobody could take away. The memory, that was his and his alone.

*

STORMWIND

It was already very late in the evening when Anduin found time to return to his private quarters. Everything was settled. Captain Zalkran was still in the Stockades but was to sail with Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth and him, some soldiers of the 7 th Legion and his Royal Guards to Zandalar tomorrow early morning. He didn't know what to expect, yet he was determined to do this not only for Kul Tiras, but mostly for Jaina and her mother.

Although Anduin was tired, he felt that sleep was far away from him. He started to undress himself and hung the royal overcoat properly - when a shadow was cast on the fire. Anduin swiveled around, wanting to summon the Light, only to recognize a dark figure not far away from him.  _Not_ Valeera, but as stealthy as her.

“Areiel?” Anduin was completely surprised. For a moment, he stood still. Did it mean... that _Sylvanas_ had sent her? He swallowed. “Welcome to my humble quarter in Stormwind Keep.”

The Ranger Captain came closer and smirked at him. “No fear, young king? Used to late night visits?”

Anduin smiled and shook his head. “You do your reputation as a dark ranger justice. How long have you been here?” He rubbed his eyes. “But I am forgetting my manners.” He stepped forward to the fire and sat down, offering the chair next to him. “Please, take a seat. What brings you here?”

Areiel hesitated first, but then she came to his side and sat down next to him. “You might already know.”

Anduin leaned back, arms folded. Terribly tired. “I can make a guess, Areiel, if you want me to but quite frankly I'm not certain whether it is a good sign or a bad sign that you show up.”

“Why are you not certain? Do you doubt her?”

“Doubt her? No.” Anduin sighed. “We just ended... in a standoff.”

“She wants to meet you again.”

Anduin's heart skipped another beat, but he smiled slightly. “I thought the Warchief was very busy.”

“As are you, young king.” Areiel commented dryly back. After a moment of silence, red eyes turned towards him. “May I ask some questions?”

“Be my guest.” 

“Why did Shandris Feathermoon join the Alliance?”

“Shandris?” Anduin was amazed. “Wouldn't it be better to ask her? - As you know yourself, a lot of time went by and everybody made a choice...”

“How true.”

Anduin who couldn't really estimate what went through the pale elf's mind simply waited for the next question.

“Why did you not tell me who you really were when we met?”

“To not get you into more trouble, Areiel.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Anduin's mouth twitched but he didn't want to insult her when she continued.

“Why did you really save me? You said it was because we share a friend which is the Warchief, of course, but you are a human and...”

“Areiel.” Anduin closed his eyes, smiling patiently. He hadn't known that dark rangers had existential questions, too. “I save lives because – as I told you – I am not one who makes others suffer. This includes us _all_. It is my firm belief that we both can live on Azeroth together, the Horde and the Alliance.”

There was silence again, when her next question came more hesitant. “What do you want from the Warchief?”

Anduin didn't lose his smile. “Why are you here?”

“Because she asked me.”

Anduin's mouth twitched. “She asked you or she ordered you?”

Areiel smirked, too, because she realized what the young king was trying to lure out of her. “I already know what  _she_ was aiming for, young king. The same way I know what  _you_ are aiming for as well. - You are both more alike than you think.”

Anduin laughed out loud. “And this is coming from a dark ranger?”

Her seriousness was back. “I must know if you want to meet her, too.”

“The fact that I welcomed you with open arms should be telling enough, Areiel. - How long have you known the Warchief?”

“Long enough. - You forget, young king, how devoted we are to her, she who saved our lives from a fate much worse than this.”

“Fair enough.” Anduin leaned his head back. “Is that why _you_ are here? Not only as her personal messenger but also to ensure that I am serious about it?”

“I am.” Areiel nodded, yet, she had something else she wanted to tell him and decided – since her Warchief put her trust in him, to do so, too – to say it. “And I am also here to ask you for something in return, young king.”

“Something in return?” 

Areiel leaned forward. “Can  _you_ tell her to act more careful when you meet? Nathanos keeps a watchful eye on me at all times. I don't know what it was that triggered his behavior, but he specifically targets me. I fear...”

Anduin paled a bit in understanding to what she was possibly referring to. “But he's the Warchief's champion – is he not?”

Areiel looked at him. “He's the one who knows her... best. And he likes to keep it that way. But he doesn't know... that you two met in Ratchet. And that it was you who saved my life. - I told him it was Shandris. An easy lie for him to believe since he is human and well aware that elves stick together.”

Here, Anduin stared at her. Speechless, first. “You covered for  _me_ ?”

“Didn't you do the same for me?”

“It's not the same.”

“Is it not?” 

Worried that she got discovered and punished for this, he declined. “This is somehow futile, Areiel.” Then he threw a glance at her, a smile supporting his words. “Do I have to beg you for telling me Sylvanas' message, finally?”

“No. Of course not.”

Areiel - who didn't know what she started to like more, the young king's warm smile or being in an almost normal situation, sitting at the fireplace in a human castle – wasn't hesitant anymore when she told him what Sylvanas wanted to say.


	9. exploring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
> This chapter is a bit darker, be aware of some violence here.
> 
> Muchas gracias, _Sthefyz_ and thank you very very much _Chanchan773_ for leaving such wonderful comments!
> 
> Thank you, _Crazeegab_ and _Taedae_ , for your help.
> 
> And _Windcage?_ You are awesome.
> 
> To all the quiet readers out there: I really do hope you like my story. <3

ZANDALAR

The wind whipped the ship through the waves and Anduin had long given up on staying dry, the spray of the sea getting not only at him, but at Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth, too, who stood next to him steering the ship. It didn't change his good mood, though. In his head, he heard Areiel's words and that he still couldn't believe what she had told him -

“ _She proposed another date, young king.”_

_Anduin had stayed silent for a moment. “She really did.”_

“ _Yes. She said to me that you owe her three hours? Yet, she refrained from Lordaeron, but suggested to meet tomorrow late evening in the Arathi Highlands.”_

“ _In the Arathi Highlands?”_

_Areiel had nodded. “At High Perch – you would know where it is.”_

_Anduin had shaken his head and had taken a deep breath. “Areiel, I need to tell you the truth. I'm off to Zandalar, tomorrow, on a peaceful mission of which, quite frankly, I don't know the outcome – so I don't know when I will be back. I can't promise Sylvanas to be there, at the time.”_

_Areiel had been astounded. “You are honest with me although I am from the Horde?”_

“ _Areiel, what does it matter? You are our personal messenger from now on, and I guess, I hope,” - here, the young king had smiled - “You will be multiple times, so why should I not tell you the truth?”_

“ _We could use it to our advantage.”_

_Anduin had laughed. “You know, your Warchief had enough possibilities to send me in the dark – if she really wanted to. Let's just say the trust she places in you I place in you, too, Areiel.”_

“ _So what do I tell her?”_

_He had smiled. “I want to meet her, too, no matter the costs, but she has to wait until I'm back. - And I am pretty sure, Areiel, she will know when I leave Zandalar. Rokhan, whom I guess is still over there, will tell her.”_

Anduin had been thinking a lot of this exchange and if it had been wise to tell Sylvanas where he went, but it was time he knew if he could trust Sylvanas in the future - at least when they used Areiel for their unofficial way to communicate with each other. It was very important to him and he decided to take the plunge. Besides, he wasn't on a mission to continue war, he was on a peaceful mission which could include him returning with empty hands. He had already planned to leave Captain Zalkran there in Zuldazar, in that way making sure that the Captain only suspected that he had been captured by Alliance's soldiers because he had carried important things on his ship. And then, there was the question of his truthfulness towards the Warchief of the Horde. He didn't want their second date to take place and not being able to show up, therefore giving her a reason to feel betrayed and rebuffed.

A second date. Inwardly, he shook his head in disbelief. Meeting the most dangerous woman on Azeroth again, his enemy -

“Your majesty.”

Addressed by the Grand-Admiral, he saw suddenly three Zandalari ships sailing fast towards them and forced himself to concentrate on other things. The big white flag that was hoisted instead of the Alliance's one signaled that he came in peace. Would it work? The 'Wind's Redemption' was quickly surrounded, taken in the middle of the three Zandalari ships and brought to Zuldazar's harbor. Anduin noticed numerous turrets along the beautiful coastline when a wide bay opened to them. Yes, Zandalar was well protected. But not that well, Anduin mused, thinking of the remote bombs Wyrmbane's group had succeeded in installing. Was the Alliance really to launch an attack here, later on? Perhaps if he managed to pull the Zandalaris on their side, the war could've been put to an end? They had to talk politics, the next time, when he met Sylvanas. It was inevitable. Yet, he was here for the exchange of a living corpse for a dead corpse. And he hoped to have success even more when at the other side of the table he had the oldest empire of Azeroth, the powerful Zandalari trolls who bargained with fearsome loa and whose navy was nearly unmatched on the Great Sea.

*

ORGRIMMAR

Sylvanas, after waiting the whole night and half of the day for her Ranger Captain to have the guts to finally show up, had been on her way to the throne when Areiel entered Grommash Hold, around noon. Little did her Dark Lady know that Areiel was indeed observed by Nathanos very closely. Thus, to not draw too much attention, she had not immediately reported to her Warchief after returning to Orgrimmar, but kept herself busy with her duties as a Ranger Captain. Always aware of his presence, always aware of how to act normally because Nathanos' attention didn't falter. Yet, Areiel seethed with anger that started to border on hate inside. She wasn't used to be questioned in her doings. And she wasn't used to being watched the whole time. But her unwavering loyalty to her Warchief forced her to go through this. And perhaps the growing secret sympathy for the young king, although he was a human and her enemy. Diving into the kingdom of Stormwind where he lived had reminded her of her former home. Besides, she was still amazed at the way she had been treated by Anduin. As not someone cursed and to be yelled at, but as someone equal. Exactly the same way he had done so in Nazmir. She could only assume that it was part of the charm that had possibly caught her Dark Lady, too. Now, however, she saw herself confronted with the Warchief's anger.

“How fortunate for you to finally show up, Areiel.” Upon watching her dark ranger who remained very calm, Sylvanas' anger deepened. “What took you so long?”

Areiel was almost on the verge to answer: “Nathanos,” but thought it better to leave this topic in the young king's hands.

“Areiel?” Sylvanas was split concerning the answer Areiel would bring, a part in her still brooding if it had been a wise decision or not. Technically, she still owed him the second part of their deal. At least, that was what she told herself over and over again, knowing deep down that she perhaps was on the best way to betray herself.

Areiel preferred to apologize, seeing that her lady wasn't in a good mood. “Excuse me, my lady. I was kept busy with things.” Then, Areiel dropped her voice and paid close attention to movements outside the Hold, speaking Thalassian. “He apologizes for not being able to meet you, my Dark Lady. - He's off to Zandalar, right now as we speak.”

Sylvanas eyed her Ranger Captain for a moment, but then she answered in Thalassian. “Zandalar?” She sounded confused. “What does he want in Zandalar?”

“He told me he is on a peaceful mission.”

“Peaceful mission?” Sylvanas was impatient, neither content with the answer given nor satisfied with the outcome with having to wait. “Areiel, do not dance around this. There was an easy answer to my question.”

“That's all he told me, my lady. And that you would know when he leaves Zandalar because Rokhan would certainly inform you.”

Sylvanas' anger grew, not wanting to believe the news she heard. What was that fool of a boy-king doing now?  _Bargaining_ with the Zandalaris? They were  _their_ allies! Her anger boiled immediately over, adding to the fact that the boy-king always forced her to take action the way she had not wished to, to switch her plans, to make her deal with more problems as if she hadn't already enough. These last nights, she had been lured out of her quiet undead living which she felt usually comfortable in and she wasn't keen on repeating that. And now she was confronted – again – with the need of acting... her train of thought came suddenly to a halt. Was she, really? Sylvanas hesitated. No. Perhaps all had been wrong. She wasn't forced to act.  _Perhaps_ the problem would solve itself – after Zandalar. One way or another. And with getting rid of that, calm returned to her mind.

“I'll wait.” She said to Areiel and nodded, turning her back to the throne, leaving the astonished dark ranger behind. “You can leave, Areiel.”

Her Ranger Captain paused for a moment. There was nothing more left to say? “Of course, my lady.”

She realized that the Dark Lady's behavior was completely contrary to the one she had when asking to deliver the young king a personal message. Did it mean...  _she_ started to have doubts, only because the second meeting was postponed? Something didn't add up. With more confusion than ever, Areiel left Grommash Hold and returned to the other dark rangers, not aware of the immobile shadow close to the Hold who wondered about the incident, too.

Nathanos Blightcaller was no step further to learn what Areiel's orders were, and judging by her face, he was not alone in wondering about his queen's strange behavior. What was wrong with his queen? It left as the only option... confronting her directly, bringing his speculations to an end. And if he were to get no answer, well, he had to dig deeper. Nathanos made a decision, left the shadows and entered Grommash Hold, looking for his queen who sat at the throne, in a brooding attitude again.

“My queen.”

“My champion?” Sylvanas looked up, pleased that he was here. “You bring important news?”

“No.” Nathanos was silent for a moment. “I came for something else.” 

“Why do you hesitate?”

“I do not, as I do not know what you want, my queen. - I do not know what it is that keeps you staying in the throne room, all by yourself.” Nathanos told himself to speak his mind. “You used to be open to your champion, but since we are back from the Stockades, you are not. What happened, my queen?” And then, to make it easier for her, he gave her a possible answer. “Did the humans... not treat you with the respect you deserve?” 

Her reaction wasn't what he expected.

“Why must you be so difficult? You dare question _my_ behavior?” Her voice echoed in the Hold. She was – more than angry, he realized, when her next words were icily hissed. “Nathanos, this is none of your business... is this understood? And now _go_.”

She leaped up, turned away from him and walked past him, ignoring him, entering the small chamber behind the throne, the curtain falling down behind her.

The words couldn't have been more direct and they made him flinch. Nathanos was used to a lot of things from his queen, but never, never ever before had she told him quite frankly that it wasn't  _his_ business. He was her confidant for so long. Why was she all of a sudden so secretive? He was always there for her, so it came as a shock to him that she had told him not to speak of these things again... and to go.

And so, Nathanos left, without a word or a look back, and Sylvanas returned to the throne room and paced furiously up and down, trying to control herself and not let another Banshee cry, which already threatened to break through, out. No, it would not do! The last time had been enough. But she was  _mad_ . Mad at herself, that she couldn't tell her own, most loyal champion what was wrong with her, and at the same time mad at the boy-king who placed her in a situation she thought was beyond her - as a Banshee Queen! And it took a long time to cool herself down and not to destroy a single thing. 

*

ZULDAZAR

The Port of Zandalar – Zuldazar harbor – was Zuldazar's primary trade and military port. It was here that the Zandalari berthed their mighty fleet and traders from around Azeroth sold their wares and services. After Zandalar opened the port to non-trolls for the first time in centuries, many traders arrived to sell their wares which explained why the whole harbor was very busy.

The 'Wind's Redemption' dropped anchor – its three accompanying Zandalari vessels still around - and Anduin waited for a moment because there were already Zandalari warriors lining up on the landing stage, and another female Zandalari troll, beautifully dressed in a gold-green-orange armor stepped in front of the troop.

Anduin inhaled deeply, nodded towards Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth and went down the ship's gangway.

“Greetings, Zandalari Warrior. - I am King Anduin Wrynn. I come in peace for an audience with King Rastakhan, the ruler of the Zandalari Empire.”

“I am Wardruid Loti. I am de conduit of Gonk, loa of shapes and master of da hunt. I also be one of da Zanchuli Council members.”

Anduin was scrutinized for a long time. He waited patiently, until she finally nodded. Since he had spoken Orcish, he had impressed her a bit.

“Our King is a wise ruler. He'll decide.”

Then, Anduin was taken into the middle of the troop of Zandalari warriors, Wardruid Loti beside him, and they entered the city on foot. He had left behind Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth, all of the 7 th Legion soldiers and the Lion's Guards who had a close eye on Captain Zalkran still held prisoner on the Alliance's vessel.

It was a very strange feeling, walking completely alone, surrounded by the Zandalari troops, through a troll's town. And it was a long walk, too. They entered Zuldazar through a monumental golden gate and started then to climb stairs, but Anduin tried not to let his thoughts strive too far on his way to the king's audience. Instead, he admired the beautiful and breathtaking architecture of Zuldazar. A busy place called the Grand Bazaar opened up to them with more stairs.

Anduin was already impressed with the grandeur of the massive, golden temple city, when they arrived at a Terrace and he was faced with a beautiful view of waterfalls from the Kingsmouth River, palm trees and luscious green.

The grand pyramid, called the Great Seal, suddenly showed up in front of them. Anduin estimated that it had about elven or twelve levels. And there were more stairs to be climbed, obviously. He saw suddenly a lot of dinosaurs flying around and assumed, amused, that he was probably forced to climb all these stairs to be shown that the High King of the Alliance didn't count here.

Finally, Anduin arrived at the Golden Throne of Dazar'alor, which was the throne room, having climbed up the pyramid and came to stand in respectful distance of the King on his throne.

King Rastakhan, an imposing figure, dressed in a mainly golden Zandalari traditional outfit with an impressive crown on his head, was also an ancient ruler, who was not quick to trust new allies. Yet, he spoke first, seeing the human in the royal outfit.

“Welcome to Zuldazar. Ya come at a bad time.”

Anduin stepped slowly closer. He knew he had to act very careful here. “You must forgive me my intrusion, King Rastakhan, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't urgent.”

Rastakhan stood up from his throne, his bodyguards following him left and right, until he was in front of Anduin, examining the young human curiously.

“My name is King Anduin Wrynn, High King of the Alliance and King of Stormwind,” Anduin began polite, “I'm not here for political reasons. - I would very much like to ask you a favor.” He sighed, but thought it wise to proceed with honesty. “It was brought to my ears that the Horde left a dead corpse in your hands when they returned from Kul Tiras. Since this body belongs to a son whose mother would like to bury him properly at his home, I wanted to propose an exchange. - My soldiers took one of your captains, his name is Captain Zalkran, prisoner and I brought him here with me, because I wanted to offer him back to you. In short, it would be an exchange of a living corpse against a dead corpse.”

Anduin had finished and waited patiently for the king's answer.

Rastakhan, who seemed to be a calm person who didn't rush decisions, had listened and raised his eyebrows. “Ya want dis dead corpse?”

Anduin nodded and kept his answer brief. “Yes.”

Loti, the female Zandalari troll who had escorted the young king to the Golden Throne, stepped forward, talking in Zandali. “He came with a vessel flying de white flag, King Rastakhan. And Captain Zalkran is on it.” A distrustful look was thrown at Anduin. “Humans...”

“Enough.” Rastakhan intervened. “I will decide what to do with dis outsider.”

He changed the language to Orcish so Anduin understood. “I want to speak with my daughter so ya will have to wait. But you showed great courage coming here alone – a trait dat I admire.” He nodded towards Anduin and continued talking with Loti in the troll's language. She exited afterwards, taking the troop of Zandalari warriors with her.

Turning back to Anduin, who still remained where he was, Rastakhan spoke, pleasantly surprised that the young Alliance's king spoke his enemies' language: “Talanji, my daughter, worries dat I do not see our true enemies. Know dat I am not as blind as she fears. I let you stay as my guest... for now. De law is what I say it is, for so long as I am king. De eyes of de kingdom rest upon you. Spirits be with ya, man.”

“And with you, King Rastakhan.” Anduin was about to walk outside the throne room, when the King's voice held him back. “Since de Zandalaris do not always have a visitor, I may show ya my city?”

Anduin was surprised but smiled while turning around. “I would very much like to, King Rastakhan,” He answered, “I heard Zuldazar is the most ancient city in the world. It is considered the jewel of all troll civilizations...”

And while Anduin continued to count all he knew about the beautiful old city, a small smile flew over King Rastakhan's face, too. “Had I known dat de Alliance is full of wisdom...”

Anduin blushed. “It is only a hobby of mine.” He mentioned while he followed the King, at his side. “I was always interested in Azeroth's history.”

The troll King nodded. “Ya will see why it is called the golden temple city...”

And while the two talked shop, they slowly moved down the pyramid and were in the middle of the busy city. Anduin earned a lot of strange looks, but as soon as the trolls recognized their king at his side, he got something like a smile. It was difficult to tell with the tusks.

It was only in the afternoon, that Anduin was invited to a late lunch with the King and they sat at one of the pyramid's terraces, talking about ruling a kingdom. It wasn't the last time Anduin would be astonished at Rastakhan's wisdom. Then Talanji showed up, with Rokhan at her side.

“Ah, dere you are, father. Come, we have plans to discuss.” Suddenly, she stopped upon seeing Anduin in his royal outfit. “What is dis, father?”

Anduin stood up and nodded towards the Darkspear troll he knew. “Rokhan.” His curiosity about the young troll princess – who had been in the Stockades but without him having time to visit her - made him step towards her when he addressed her in Orcish. “I am King Anduin Wrynn. We haven't had the pleasure to meet in person.”

Distrusting eyes – a bit like the piercing red ones he was used to – looked at him, but Talanji didn't forget her manners in the presence of her father. “I know who you are. I am Princess Talanji.”

She turned towards her father who had smiled upon the exchange of formalities and had seen that Rokhan who knew the young king had nodded back. Anduin returned to the table and sat down.

“You are dealing with de Alliance now?”

Anduin, who had heard and understood her words, shook his head and smiled a bit. “I wish your father would, but I am only here to ask for an exchange. And I come as a negotiator, nothing else.”

She still eyed him with mistrust. “What do ya want?”

Rastakhan intervened. “He wants de corpse your Horde had left here. And he offers Captain Zalkran in exchange.”

“One of de Captains of our ships?”

“Yes.”

Watching father and daughter talk reminded Anduin of his father again and how often they had conversed about current political decisions. And how much he missed him and wished to have him still at his side. His father, would he have done the same? Or just told him to leave it be?

After getting to her father's side on the table, Talanji spoke in Zandali, so only her father could understand. “Father, what do ya want with de Alliance King?”

The King shook his head. “He came here flying da white flag and made his proposal. I said to him I would wait for you so we took a joint stroll through the city.”

“Father...”

A warning look came from Rastakhan. “Daughter do not talk to me like dis.” He nodded towards the young king who had started to speak with Rokhan. “He is young like you and he knows a lot about our history.”

“But he's from da Alliance, father, de very same dat put me in prison!”

“Do not make de mistake, Talanji, to condemn de enemies' actions. I wasn't de king for nothing so long. And although I feel my end near...”

“Father! Do not speak of de things...”

“If you do not want to make de deal with him, fine, Talanji. But treat him with de respect he brought to me, too.” 

Anduin had observed their faces and concluded rightly that, with Princess Talanji's presence, he had little chance of success in his endeavor. And that was what he addressed when Talanji neared him.

“If I understood you correctly, Princess Talanji, you are not to give me the dead corpse of Derek Proudmoore.”

“Only when I talked with da Horde.” Talanji answered. “But I will do dis immediately.”

That's what Anduin had feared, but he tried not to let it on. “Then we both wait for an answer?”

*

ORGRIMMAR

It wasn't better in the late afternoon. Sylvanas was still  _mad_ . It was a torture to sit down and to listen to the Horde's members complaints. It was a major annoyance to make decisions she wasn't interested in. And to top it all, no word had come from Zandalar, so far. Rokhan stayed quiet – shouldn't he informed her at least that the young king arrived there? Or had he not arrived? - and it rankled her that she had no clue, again, what  _her_ Horde was doing. She was on pins and needles, and not in a good way. Almost everybody was leaving immediately after having put forth their requests, as if the whole population of Orgrimmar sensed in what bad mood their Warchief was and didn't want to bother her with unnecessary things. It stayed eerily quiet in the Orc's city.

The guards had left the throne room, too, no longer needed: the Kor'kron, the Death guards and the dark rangers. Sylvanas was finally alone. And still no word, no message from Rokhan. Or from her personal champion. And who was he, anyway? As if all had conspired against her. Her fury was difficult to keep in check.

*

DAZAR'ALOR

It took Talanji long to return, Rastakhan had bid farewell and returned to his king's duties, leaving Anduin waiting on one of the numerous terraces of the grand pyramid, looking over Zuldazar. When the young troll princess finally came, another person was at her side. Dressed in dark clothes and gazing at him with red glowing eyes. Anduin's heart sank because one part of him had hoped to see the Warchief herself, but this person wasn't her.

Nathanos, still in a bad mood from the incident around noon and Sylvanas denying him any chance of understanding what had caused it, leaving him alone with his suspicions that she had been tortured in the Stockades, had stepped through the Portal as soon as he was informed that Talanji needed to speak to someone from the Horde. Being the Banshee Queen's champion, he had all the authority that was needed. And it was better not to disturb the Warchief. His first surprise gave way to unexpected satisfaction when he realized  _who_ had come to Zuldazar.

Anduin saw the undead human, identifying him rightly as the Warchief's champion who had been called by Princess Talanji. An uncomfortable feeling arose in him. He wasn't sure what to think of the other man. Especially when he thought about Sylvanas' passionate kiss in a tunnel in Ratchet. He had heard that the human had been her best pupil, her words still in his ears: 'Only one human had been good enough.' - Which meant he must've had a lot of... magic when he was alive to bewitch Sylvanas? To also possess her love?

It was then that Talanji had to answer another important request of her people and left the two alone.

“Now what do we have here.” Nathanos said and turned to him. “Alliance scum.”

Anduin, in his royal outfit but not in his distinctive armor, without Shalaymane as well, unarmed, kept very calm, still trying to figure out what Sylvanas could have seen in the other man, what had her made to come to love the former 'ranger lord' trained by elves. Yet, insults were beneath him, so he remained silent.

“What do _you_ want here?” Slightly menacing, Nathanos stepped closer, red eyes glowing which seemed to warn Anduin to stay where he was.

Light, he had to endure him as long as Princess Talanji was away? The two Zandalari troll guards who stood near them had turned around, as if they had been ordered to look away. Anduin worked hard on keeping his composure and not to step back when the other came close. Fear had suddenly befallen him. For the first time, he was confronted with consequences he had not taken into consideration so far and was reminded of what Areiel had said to him, that Nathanos kept a watchful eye on the Warchief. He started to sweat. Had Sylvanas already told him about them? Or had the Warchief's champion found out by himself? The feeling, as he had once felt, to protect her from whatever wrath others nurtured, returned. In any case, he needed to keep her out of this, whatever he had to go through. Even if he was forced to navigate in dark waters, here.

“I can smell your fear, human.”

Anduin stood his ground. “You try my patience.”

“Well, well, the illustrious High King of the Alliance. Still basking in the glory of your victory over Undercity, no doubt.” 

Glowing red eyes were right in front of him, but not the way Anduin was used to them.  _These_ were as piercing as they were unyielding. Aggressive. He preferred not to answer the sarcastic comment.

“Hmmmm... I'll make it quick. - You best return and come not back.”

This made Anduin react against his will. “I'm here on a peaceful mission -”

Dark, bushy eyebrows drew together, threatening. “ _You_ are lucky to even be here...”

Anduin didn't like the way the other man spoke to him at all – and this was the one she had chosen, once? - which made his brashness rush forward. “As are  _you_ , it seems.”

The undead's voice grew darker. “What do you want here?  _I_ won't ask again.”

“None of your business.”

It was the last straw for Nathanos' arduous restraint. None of his business? Anduin had unknowingly hit his sore point because his queen had used the same word and had treated him in the same dismissive way, reinforcing his decision to use the opportunity to teach the Alliance's scum a lesson – since all signs showed that Sylvanas had been tortured, probably under  _his_ orders. Hate simmered in him. It couldn't be anything else she stayed so persistently silent about. This must be why she had wanted to be alone, after she was saved and after she was back in Orgrimmar. He knew that there were other things that made her quiet, that could make her retreat inside herself, but being not treated with respect was something that bothered her, that he knew. His queen was not one who trifled with such things so it must have been a hell of a dread. He grimly eyed the young king, knowing him to be a light-wielder and imagining he had punished her with his Light.

“What did you do to _her_?”

Anduin knew he wasn't on friendly or even neutral territory anymore, but was nevertheless surprised when the first blow came and hit him in the stomach and made him stagger backwards. He stopped his first impulse to call on the Light, not knowing if he was allowed to strike back, here. In the worst case, it could be seen as an act of war... and it could be interpreted as an admission of guilt! And then, he knew for certain  _she_ had loved the other man as she had confessed in the tavern. Still did, perhaps? So who was he to hurt him? His Light was agonizingly painful and destructive to the undead man. And the moment of sorting his thoughts cost him getting the next attack full side, unprepared, when he was kicked and landed hard on his knees. Taking a deep breath, he tried to suppress the pain, an arm cradling his struck side. Wild anger flared in him, anger that demanded an answer.

“Daring to attack someone unharmed, Blightcaller?” Anduin coughed.

This was what he was like? A cruel human who knew no barriers anymore? Who liked to torture others?

“ _What_ did you do to her?”

Anduin stared up at him when the other man's question seeped through to him. What did he do to her? What did he mean by that? Did he know... about the two of them?

Nathanos bowed down to him and hissed: “I got others talked, you merely prolong the inevitable.”

“I have nothing to say.” Anduin pressed between gritted teeth when he slowly rose. All Anduin wanted was to stop the other man but fear had him in its grip, again. He had to be careful not to reveal anything to protect Sylvanas... 

“Do not test me.” 

Anduin was shaken violently while more words were hurled at him.  “Who hurt her?” Nathanos rambled, fury in his voice. “What had happened to her - I'm giving it to you tenfold now.”  The Forsaken who had the young man in a firm grip, was beside himself with rage.  Anduin was shoved backwards with brutal force, crushing hard on the pyramid's golden wall. The young king gasped as pain rippled through him. The impact of the collision knocked the breath from his lungs and his tilted head exploded. Pain spread along his body when Nathanos, in his fury, shoved him again and again... and it cost Anduin all of his sheer will to not slash back. 

“She doesn't speak to me about it! Who hurt her in the Stockades?! _You_?”

It took a longer moment for Anduin to finally understand in his haze of pain that Nathanos obviously assumed that Sylvanas had been  _assaulted_ in the Stockades. - It was almost laughable. The Horde assumed the worst of the Alliance? That their Warchief had been mistreated? That  _he_ had tortured her? Incredulity grasped him, of how he had thought the other one  _knew_ about them but Nathanos interpreted Sylvanas' silence completely wrong. 

“Is this your answer?! Silence?!” Nathanos snapped and suddenly stopped, letting Anduin sink down the wall to his feet. The lacerations to his temple were bleeding badly. The young king fought himself through pain and dizziness and the chance to gasp for air. 

“Where's your will to strike back?” The undead bowed down to him, speaking with the utmost contempt. “I always knew you were a weakling.”

Anduin still rang for his consciousness as the Blightcaller drew his dagger, enjoying the young king helpless at his feet - when a sudden outcry let him swivel around.

Talanji stood there, shocked upon seeing Anduin's condition. “What did you do? - Dis man is under my father's protection!”

Nathanos let Anduin go, straightened up and sheathed his dagger. “I questioned the prisoner. - Yet, I didn't get far. It seems the Alliance knows its place.” He turned around to her. “You wanted to speak to me?”

Talanji frowned and directed the Banshee Queen's champion with her outstretched arm some yards away.

While they discussed, Anduin came to stand, painstakingly, groping his way upwards on the wall behind him to support his weight. He tried not to waver, taking another deep breathe and quietly started to heal himself to stop the pain. Mending broken bones  _again_ that had been shattered once. Under a bell. His body remembered the chronic pain well.

When the Warchief's personal champion was gone, the troll princess returned to Anduin. He still stood at the same place, at the pyramid's wall, still a bit shaken, confronted with such cruelty he had only known on a battlefield where it was expected but not on neutral ground.

“Are you okay?”

“I don't know.” Anduin answered truthfully who still felt an echo of the pain.

Eyes, difficult to read, looked at him. “I do not like him either.” Talanji said to him. “But I will honor his request.”

“His request?”

“To put you behind bars.”

“I came here in peace to ask for an exchange, not for actions of war.” Anduin protested, starting to get angry, but when he saw the Princess' guards surrounding him, he knew it was futile.

“It is just a formality.” Talanji said. “For what you did to me.”

“You were in the Stockades for your own protection.” Anduin answered, tired, his heart heavy, already knowing he had come here in vain.

She watched him. “When dis is over, you are free to go back home, young king. You have my word.”

He only nodded towards her. “I count on that. - Will you guarantee the safety of my people and my ship in your harbor?”

Anduin earned another curious look of Talanji. “Rokhan said you are a man of honor. It seems he be right with dat. - I will guarantee it as long as dey let my captain go.”

Knowing he was to give his most precious card away without getting anything in return, Anduin nodded nevertheless and gave her the compass he had made for his father's birthday and he knew Admiral Jes-Tereth would recognize at once.

“When you get there deliver this and my Grand-Admiral will believe you and follow your orders.”

She nodded as well and turned around only to stop halfway - “Why did you not fight him back?”

Anduin cradled his side where a feeling of pain was left and sighed. “Because I came in peace.”

Another look met him, then she stepped back, and Anduin, escorted by her Zandalari guards who took him in the middle, was forced to follow the long way to the Rastari Barracks where he would spend the night. Walking with a limp, but straight.

Suddenly, Talanji wasn't sure whom she should respect more. The Horde for freeing her and their champion for helping her or the Alliance for having a king with honor?

*

ORGRIMMAR

Nathanos had long been back, but he needed time to calm himself. The fury about the whole situation had him still in its grip. It wouldn't do, as agitated as he felt, to report to his queen. The only satisfaction he had now was, that, at least, a bit payback for all she had suffered was done.

This was how in the late evening, knowing Sylvanas to be in the throne room, he found himself entering Grommash Hold, having gained back his usual calmness in her presence.

She, too, was calmer, he could see it and he was greeted with a nod of her head. “My champion. You bring news?”

“Yes, my queen.” Nathanos bowed. “The Zandalari required our help today and I jumped in since the Speaker of the Horde was busy.”

Sylvanas' look still lingered on him. “What did they want?”

“Alliance's scum annoyed them. It was of no real importance, but I requested to put him in prison.”

“Him?”

“The Alliance's... champion.”

Her eyebrows raised. “What did their champion do in Zandalar?”

Nathanos' mouth twitched. “He tried to bargain a living corpse for a dead corpse, my queen, but failed due to my intervention.”

“Speak plainly, Nathanos.”

And so, Nathanos told her shortly how they had found Derek Proudmoore's body and had tried to trade it but had, in the end, taken it to Dazar'alor, where the body was currently now.

And while Sylvanas listened to him, Areiel's words were suddenly present. That the young king was on a peaceful mission, in Zandalar. Was it himself or had he sent someone else? She needed to know and stood up, coming closer to her champion.

“What is this new Alliance champion like?”

Nathanos was surprised about her query. Perhaps it was better to tell her the whole truth.

“My queen, forgive your champion.” He kneeled in front of her, and Sylvanas was suddenly shocked, assuming the worst. Her voice sharpened without her noticing.

“What did you do?”

“It was the Alliance's king himself who was there.”

Silence was his answer. And Sylvanas wasn't able to avoid more worst case scenarios shooting through her mind. Had Nathanos found out that she had met the young king? Had the young king himself told him? Had...

“The opportunity to make him pay for imprisoning you, to avenge what he had done to you in the Stockades was there and I took it, my queen.”

Sylvanas turned away from him, fighting hard for her icily calm. “You made him beg for his life, I assume.”

“Yes, my queen.” There was a hint of relief that she obviously understood his duty when he continued. “Yet, the Zandalari did not seem to like me much for it. Princess Talanji ended me punishing him and was offhand, afterwards, so I asked him to be imprisoned by reminding her he had done the same to her in the past.”

“When did this happen?”

“This afternoon, my queen.”

Another silent shock followed because it was already late in the evening. But she remained composed. “Did you get something useful out of him?”

His mouth twitched full of contempt. “Nothing, my queen. He didn't even... fight back, this weakling. Full of fear it might be seen as an act against his peaceful mission, I guess.” His mouth twitched again. “I would've loved to see him try.”

*

ZULDAZAR, RASTARI BARRACKS

Anduin was still in pain upon finally arriving at the barracks. It had started to get dark and very humid outside when they entered the prison section. He followed the guards to the end of the long corridor along a lot of cells, some empty, some occupied. The last one was opened for him and he walked through the door. The door fell into place behind him with a loud bang. He was completely surrounded by bars.

And on a bench in his cell, in the steamy dungeon, left with screams coming from other cells where an enforcer seemed to be at work, in the humidity of a tropic climate, Anduin broke, feeling lonely and desperate. Although he knew now – considering the words of Sylvanas' champion - that she had kept silent about meeting him and certainly about kissing him, the hurt in his soul deepened.

It wasn't only the certainty of being wronged and failing his mission completely, no, it was facing a cruelty he hadn't seen before and it was facing a humiliating fight. He was forced to put up with insults he didn't deserve and to be judged by someone who didn't know him.

Anduin was shocked that the Warchief's personal champion believed him capable of torturing the Warchief of the Horde. Wasn't he known for calling for peace... 'when it suits you, little lion, but you're quick enough to kill' another voice echoing inside his head ended the thought and Anduin buried his head in his hands. How was he to unite two factions when he failed here? Yet, this incident was another proof of how deep the mistrust between the two factions still was. And then, there were other questions nagging at him. Sylvanas surely knew that he was here – he had told Areiel himself. Had she sent her champion to beat the hell out of him only to find out if he was trustworthy enough? Or did it mean, in the end, that it had been nothing than a game to her, even the prospect of a second date? And that she had realized – after her champion was obviously back – that all had been a fatal mistake? The sweet bitterness, of having found some happiness and some joy, of having  _her_ in his life left empty by his father dead, a nd the pain  that everything had gone, hit him hard. And that,  _all things considered_ , he only had to blame himself, because he had been the one who went down to her, in the Stockades. Guilty to all charges. 

*

GROMMASH HOLD

After they talked about other things, Nathanos left, finally, leaving Sylvanas in the quiet of Grommash Hold. Back to brooding.

And immediately, the young king was present again, making her questioning herself. Forcing her to confront herself. Why had she only agreed to this meeting in the Broken Keel Tavern? Even proposed a second one? She hadn't done it for Areiel. Well, a bit, but she had used it mostly as an excuse. A challenge they had started in the Stockades – both of them -, as she always told herself but it was time to acknowledge the truth, the same truth that stood behind her kissing him: he had woken something in her like nothing else had done before. Not protecting her Forsaken, first and foremost. Not scheming. Not being promoted Warchief. Sylvanas closed her eyes. He had woken a living part in her that was still there no matter what she did to get rid of it.

And it made her... furious. It made her grumpy. It made her hate him for touching a part in her she had not thought  _still_ existed and that demanded its tribute, now. She was sometimes so tired of bob up and down with no outlook of change – only the knowledge of blackest darkness awaiting her in the end. Her primary goal, the Horde ruling over Azeroth, securing thus their survival, was the only thing that counted. Which seemed almost irrelevant now to achieve, compared to the mess she brought herself in, opening up to the young king giving her something new, deliberately, leading to a dangerous and unknown path... but also to a challenge she hungered for.

No, no, no, why did she question her own behavior? Why did  _he_ make her? Wasn't all she ever wanted the Horde? And with it, the power to take, to conquer, to win? 

She took her head in her hands, again. The awareness of the young king being in prison and it being her Champion's doing, this time, did not let her go. One dark part of her enjoyed it. The young king had deserved all of that, to be imprisoned, mistreated, beaten, since he had forced her after the siege of Lordaeron to blow up her own beloved city. And dared to plague her quiet, little undead life in the Stockades!

Yet, another part of her disagreed. Being honest with herself, he had done nothing  _she_ had not let him do. Did he really deserve this? - Never, ever, had he hurt her. He had treated her with respect, loyalty and honesty, not beneath him like so many humans had done and still did. He had put his trust in her. He had tried to cross barriers, to build bridges to her. Varian, his father - she had liked and respected -,  would not have freed her from the chains in the Stockades, apart from talking to her. Varian wouldn't even have spared her troops in Stromgarde. And Varian would never have spared her dark ranger's life. No. He would've done  _none_ of these actions. He had been a warrior, like her. Pragmatic. Ruthless. Not the softer version that his son was. And yet, his  _son_ had done all of this. Including having the courage to let her know what kind of power she could have over him when they kissed... no, she was at the same end again.

The quiet of Grommash Hold was finally too much for her. Sylvanas leapt up from her throne, going outside. It was the first night she stayed outside, after she had met the young Wrynn in the Broken Keel Tavern. Five, almost six nights ago.

Sunrise was already setting in when Sylvanas stopped battling with herself and made a decision. It would be so easy to leave it all like it was, now. All problems solved. But she had never chosen the easy way, and she would not do so now. When the sun climbed its way to its peak, she had already summoned the official Speaker of the Horde as called by the Zandalari, explained her plan and ordered the Horde's champion to step through Zandalar's portal. She continued with the daily duties, sending Nathanos to check upon Gallywix which would keep him busy for the rest of the day. In the unbearable midday heat, she also summoned some of her dark rangers, five of them, including Areiel. Without saying so much as a word, she turned towards the Portal Room and entered through the portal to Dazar'alor with them following.

Areiel, thinking this was not her Dark Lady's wisest decision, feared for the outcome, only able to speculate  _what_ had brought her to do this.

*


	10. misunderstanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
> Be prepared for heartbreak. But it will get better, I promise!
> 
> Thank you, _Taedae_ and _Crazeegab_ and _Windcage_. You three are wonderful!
> 
> ...and thank you, _Adri94_ , _Ryuujin_ and _Chanchan773_ for leaving a comment. They mean a lot to me!

 *

DAZAR'ALOR, ZANDALAR

Noon saw King Rastakhan and Talanji having another talk while lunch was served, in the shadows of the palm trees.

“Talanji, Loti informed me of a fight? With de young king? And dat he is still in our prison?”

Talanji who herself had not been proud of how she handled things, blushed. “I am sorry, father.”

Rastakhan's eyebrows drew together. “You had a role in dis?”

“I was away while it happened, father.” Talanji hesitated. “I stopped de fight as soon as I returned.”

Rastakhan leaned forward. “Do be careful, Talanji. - I do not want you to get involved in politics dat are not adequate for our people. You are young, but I want you to remember dat de Zandalari had always been proud and fair trolls.”

“I have done nothing dat de Alliance's king had not done as well. He put me in prison, too!” Talanji protested. “And had not de Horde arrived...”

“Talanji.” Rastakhan shook his head. And sighed. Softly, he mentioned: “Still, dis is no way to treat an emissary who came flying de white flag.”

Talanji lowered her head, for a moment guilty, but then, she looked up. “De times are changin', father. We need help. - I want to start a raid in Uldir to get rid of de problems of G'huun since de last seal was ultimately destroyed. Rezhan...”

“I know what happened to our loa, Talanji.”

“... and G'huun is also wrestling control over de souls of de dead from Bwonsamdi...”

“So ya decided to call for help?”

“De Speaker of de Horde, father, had been very helpful to us. And he will help me again, we just had a talk, and he assured me of...”

“You trust him dat much?”

“He did everything I asked him for, father. He accompanied me everywhere and helped me. Without him? I do not know...”

Rastakhan nodded. “I see your point, daughter, but I am not content with how you treated de young king of de Alliance. Let him go, Talanji. And dis is not a wish.”

“I will, father -”

And right in this moment, one of Talanji's guards came to inform her that the Warchief of the Horde had arrived.

Talanji stood. “Excuse me, father, but I have to go. I promise to get de young king out of de Rastari Barracks.”

Rastakhan nodded and wanted to add something but Wardruid Loti's arrival, carrying important news, forced him into.

And then, Talanji was gone.

Areiel had been very silent when they stepped through the Portal and set foot in Dazar'alor, arriving directly in King Rastakhan's palace, which was an enormous pyramid. They were expected and greeted by the Horde's champion who took them, while talking with their Dark Lady, to the Horde's embassy that was in the same building on another floor. When they entered, the troll princess was already waiting for them.

Sylvanas greeted her. “Princess Talanji. - Our champion may have already informed you...”

“Warchief of de Horde,” Talanji interrupted her then, “it is very fortunate for ya to come just at dis moment. I was talking to your champion and telling him dat de Zandalari will need de help of de Horde again. - As you may know, we had a hard fight against de Blood Trolls of Nazmir. Dey worshipped G'huun, known as de Blood God, as a loa. De threat he is posing is still world-ending. G'huun's corruption, that is called “under rot”, it sought to spread its rot, pestilence and decay across the world, and beyond, and to consume Azeroth in the process. Now, with de fall of de last seal – once three seals existed – nothing prevents G'huun from doing dis. Which is why it is of utmost importance to fight and slew G'huun before he could break free, and to travel to Uldir, where he is locked away.” 

Sylvanas nodded, almost happy that she obviously didn't need to go through with her former plan now that a new event appeared which brought the Zandalaris in the position to request help from the Horde  _again_ . This was a better development than she had thought, just at the right time. And it made it a lot easier to voice her next issue after they had discussed about that action that needed to be taken for the raid of Uldir. 

Finally, Sylvanas had the chance to address it. “I have another business, and it concerns the High King of the Alliance.”

Talanji shook her head. “I am sorry. Dis prisoner is under my father's protection.”

Red eyes turned towards her. “My champion already told me you put him in prison, princess, to please us.” Sylvanas strived to sound convincing and not threatening. “But if I am to give you my best soldiers to get rid of your threat, I acquire the right to visit him. By myself.”

A warning glance met her. “He won't be treated de same way  _your_ champion did. - I will have your word on dis otherwise my answer is no.”

Sylvanas' anger flared up again – because Nathanos had the Horde shown in a very bad light, that was obvious. Had the fool of her champion acted... in front of the princess?  _That_ would have consequences, she swore to herself. Yet, who was this young troll to say no to her? 

But she saved face. She knew they needed their allies, but she didn't like the way the troll princess refused her. Once, the Zandalari had pledged their loyalty to the Horde, they would have another talk. A talk with her as the Warchief of the Horde. But right now it seemed more important to check whether the boy-king was alright or not.

“You have _my_ word. - I just want to ask him some questions, princess.”

Talanji seemed to have made up her mind. “He is in de Rastari Barracks, Warchief of de Horde. My guards will show you. - But you  _alone_ will enter.” Talanji added with a strict tone, pointing silently at her dark rangers.

Sylvanas gritted her teeth, but nodded. She turned to her dark rangers to order them to stay where they were and subsequently followed the Zandalari warriors alone.

She didn't see how Talanji's eyes followed her. Querying. Wondering. If there were some personal issues at stake here and therefore she had to worry about the young king? The princess hadn't been happy to put him in prison, but she simply felt like she had had no other choice. The Horde had helped her, supported her and was now ready to accompany her in a raid to get rid of a big threat for Zandalar and possibly Azeroth. The Horde had even freed her from the Stockades in Stormwind, otherwise she wouldn't be here. So she owned them, that's why she had honored that request from the Warchief's champion himself although she didn't like him at all. Then there was Rokhan, who had stayed at her side. And of course the Horde's champion, whom her father had pronounced Speaker of the Horde and who had fought hand in hand with her, so far. 

*

ZULDAZAR , RASTARI BARRACKS

Anduin sat on the bench at the end of the cell, head leaned back against the bars, just staying calm and keeping himself in a state of trance. He was dead tired but sleep had been impossible, so far. Hopefully, it would be over once Princess Talanji had spoken or dealt with the Horde again. He tried to believe her word because a part of him suddenly started to fear that she would be forced to hand him over to the Horde. If that were the case...

He didn't try to deceive himself that – although they had come close - Sylvanas wouldn't hesitate to force him to surrender. And the complete Alliance with him. He closed his eyes. No, don't go there, he admonished himself, and felt for the umpteenth time for the Light in him to give him some comfort and not to lose courage. This waiting was worse than anything else. Also the constant worries he had about Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth and the 'Wind's Redemption' – and of the ones he had left behind, who knew about this mission... the responsibility of the situation weighed him down.

He suddenly heard voices and then the familiar walk of heels in a special rhythm he would recognize everywhere. Anduin's heart sped up, slamming against his chest.  _She_ came? Both excitement and fear held him in place.

His cell was at the end of the corridor where it was still mostly dark, but he could see the red glowing eyes that stopped in front of his door and then she entered, after the door was opened for her, looking around. She came alone?

His voice was husky. “I'm here.”

Sylvanas recognized him immediately as the shadow in the background. He was not moving, and he was eerily quiet. With swift steps she went over to him, to the bench where he was hunched up. In the dim light that shined through one of the windows that was covered with plants she could see that he was still in his royal overcoat. Yet, it was shredded and had bloodstains on it. A quick look showed him not wounded, but weary, she recognized the eye rims immediately.

“Are you hurt?” The question was out before she could take it back and in the same moment she was angry at herself for showing that she cared for him.

There was no answer.

“Which fool in you decided to come here and try to bargain with the Zandalari trolls?”

He turned his face away, but she had seen the glimpse of something like... hurt. Shame. He cleared his throat, looking back to her. “Why are  _you_ here?”

“To solve this diplomatic incident.”

“Diplomatic incident?”

“Is it better if I call it a mess you got yourself into?” 

Anger rose in him, that the first thing she did was to scold him, as if there was no lost love between them. As if... it all had meant nothing to her. He hadn't invited her here and he didn't deserve her mockery. He was very well aware of what sort of danger he had gotten himself into and it had been worth a try – which he would've succeeded in, he was convinced, if her champion hadn't showed up and demanded, above else, for him to be put in prison. Yet, his stubbornness needed clarity.

“Why are you here?”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes. Not wanting to admit at any price, for starters, that she was here because of  _him_ , she smirked. “I was discussing options and conditions with the Zandalari when I heard of your 'bold adventure'.” And before she could stop herself, she was back at mocking him, back at being cunning and deceiving. “You were offered to me for making short process. We had a good laugh. But I wanted to see for myself the fine mess you created.”

Anduin gritted his teeth. So  _that_ was why she was here? She came to gloat? Nothing else? And the only conclusion left for him was indeed that all... had been a game to her? Perhaps she had somewhere caught herself in it – Areiel's visit could've been the proof – but in the end, he would always be the loser of this game. Had she sent her champion, then, to test him? Whatever he did, whatever he tried, it didn't matter. All he ever earned were her scorn and her triumph over him. Tired, he closed his eyes. Refusing to look up to her while he answered, a hint of defiance slipping in his husky voice.

“So are you here, to make short process?”

Was this the end? He felt exhausted. On his feet over a day now, no sleep possible last night in this dungeon. The screams from other prisoners had been hard to endure, trolls weren't oversensitive in handling their prisoners. The worries having him too often in their grip. And then there was the severe beating he had taken from her champion and he still didn't know how to rank it. He was missing his father. And he was missing a happy evening that had been granted him in Ratchet, the only thing that maintained in getting a hold on himself. Somehow, Anduin started to lose hope. Hope of ever touching his dreams, of getting close to peace... and of getting close to  _her_ . He was a fool. She was giving him nothing but shattered dreams. And the realization tasted bitter. 

Sylvanas had monitored him closely, but with him staying where he was and making no step towards her, dark shadows showed on her face again. She got furious. The whole kaleidoscope of doubts and emotions new to her he had pushed her through – and she had had once so easily in her grip - made her grab him and shake him just like her own champion had done before.

“Wake up, boy-king! It is time for you to come to senses!”

Her reaction only ignited his simmering fury, too. Who was she to lecture him, again? Who was she besides his enemy he had to fight and bring down on the next battlefield?

“Let me go.” Anduin started to fend her off and stood up. Blue eyes flashed angry at her.

Red piercing eyes stared back. “You try my patience dangerously again, boy-king.”

The blue eyes turned cold. “First of all: King Wrynn to you -”

His tone, so completely different from the one he had used before to address her, hit her. And all the things she had come here for, they were wiped off at one blow. It deepened her anger. Who was he? This young boy, to challenge  _her_ , a well-versed warrior?  _He_ was nothing. She poured all her sovereign contempt and her hate into the next words.

“We are back at the beginning, little lion? Where I tell you that the Horde wants nothing to do with the Alliance's sissy? And that we will slaughter _anyone_ who stands in our way.”

Of course she was mocking him. Yet, he hit rock bottom with her use of 'little lion' and her use of the words she had greeted him with when he had gone down to her cell in the Stockades. It took him a moment to concentrate on breathing. Right now, he had enough.

“I didn't invite you here. And first of all, this is an incident between the Zandalari and the Alliance. Nothing else.”

“I was invited here. And you should be lucky that it is _me_ who is here.”

Anduin was stunned for a moment, his voice husky again. “Are you threatening me?” Had he really expected that she would visit to comfort him? To... kiss him again? To tell him she was sorry what her champion had done to him? How naïve was he really to believe in such things? He turned away from her abruptly, hurt.

Sylvanas' red eyes turned piercing and illuminated to a bright red, her voice abrasive. “It seems you have overseen in your naivety that you are on Horde's land which makes it a Horde campaign.”

He laughed as derisively as she often did. “Horde land? Right now, it is Zandalari land, as King Rastakhan told me himself. And  _you_ have no power here. - Speaking of, your Horde...”

“You mean you tried to convince the enemy of the better only to fail spectacularly?” Now she smirked. “Look at the boy-king. - These are our allies, to make that clear to you.” She snorted. “ _You_ have no right to be here. And _you_ have no right to interfere!”

Her accusations hit him completely unprepared. Was this the real Sylvanas? And the truth in her words? The hurt deepened. The facade put away – she was back at the one who everybody warned him of. Light, it made him so angry. Fighting battles on lost ground again? No, he decided. This one, I am fighting through. In knowing he would lose... this what had been most precious to him. Made him feel alive, for a short time. For all what he had hoped for...

“I have no right?” Anduin laughed a joyless laugh. “We are at war, dear Warchief, and I have every right...” 

“Always thinking you're right...” She sneered back at him, furiously.

He was so tired of defending himself. “Always thinking you've been wronged...” He retorted and shook his head, fighting with his emotions. “Stop turning the tables.”

“I am not...”

“Yes. You are. Always.”

“You dare...”

He turned around, stepped in front of her.

“Yes I dare, Warchief of the Horde. I'm tired of all the platitudes you're throwing in my face. I already know them all by heart. Give me something new!”

For the first time, she seemed to be at loss of words. But angry, oh so angry. Couldn't the red eyes glow more? Pierce more through him? Anduin didn't know. And it didn't matter because he was angry at himself. Sometimes he asked himself why he hadn't killed her with his Holy Light, yet. Problem solved. No one of her schemes or machinations going on anymore. She always had one up her sleeve, being cunning, deceitful and smart. And he was so easy to cheat. Still believing she had some good left in her, he had only to find the right button to push it! And in the same moment the thoughts shot through his mind, he was very ashamed of himself. What was wrong with him? He clenched his fists when, in the depths of despair, his eyes reflected fear and sadness of losing her. Which made her following words cut all the more deeper.

“You disgust me. I will bring you to your knees. I have no time for games.” 

Now it was her turn to step aside.

Her cruelty got him. This time. “No time for games?” Anduin echoed. “ _This_ was never a game.”

“As I said before, boy-king, the difference is you're not used to gamble when the stakes are high.”

Anduin bit his lower lip. “And I told you I don't gamble with you.”

She snorted and darted him a disdainful look. “You're nothing else than a boy playing soldier.”

Spoken so coldly, it pained him to no end. It affected him. Was everything lost? Had he been blind and never seen that she had been too long in the darkness and that no glimpse of light could lighten up her way... that he actually wasn't able to change her? That  _she_ didn't want to change? As he had thought once, only to see in the Stockades a different kind of Sylvanas? The despair grew so much that he couldn't do other than turn around again and walk away from her to the door of his cell. No words were needed, right? No words. Father, he thought, I can't do this anymore. I can't be the hero you were... Tears shot in his eyes, his emotional turmoil threatening to overwhelm him. Anduin didn't answer her. There was no comfort here.

“I make you pay for all, little lion.” 

This started to get really personal.

“All?” Anduin's voice was barely audible.

“You made me believe I could trust you.”

“You made me believe... we're friends.”

“We're not friends.”

“We're not? - What are we then?”

“Enemies. Don't forget it, boy-king.”

“Are you finished now?” Was all he asked, the taste in his mouth ashen, disappointed and heart-stricken. This kiss hadn't meant anything to her? His whole world crumbled. When no answer came, he forced himself to speak.

“If that's all there is to say, Warchief, then it is better we part ways.”

He called for the guards, who – to his astonishment, as if they hadn't agreed to this visit, either – came into the cell after he had stepped away from the door.

He threw her one look, steeling himself. Unyielding, although his heart hurt badly. “My visitor wants to leave.”

Sylvanas' eyes glowed when, passing, she hissed at him angrily: “You win nothing. I'll make sure of that.”

She left his cell, her cloak flapping behind her, and Anduin was painstakingly reminded of a moment in the Arathi Highlands where he had looked after her, too, smiling, at the beginning of something... Desperation crawled in, slowly but overwhelming.

Light, when she was gone and the guards, too, closing his cell, leaving him behind, helpless as he was, still here in Zandalar, he was heartbroken. And even the thought that now, he could concentrate on 'what a king must do', didn't help to ease his pain.

Yet, he wasn't long alone. Some time after Sylvanas had left, Talanji showed up and escorted him back to the harbor. Silent. Since Anduin was tired and sad, he didn't mind. He had nothing to say, either.

*

DAZAR'ALOR

Sylvanas was seething in rage while leaving the barracks behind. And the rage had not left her when she arrived back where her dark rangers waited for her. She spoke no word. And Areiel, watching her, feared suddenly for her Dark Lady and for the young king. But she remained silent and followed the rest of the group back to the Portal Room. Back to Princess Talanji.

“He answered your questions, Warchief of de Horde?”

Sylvanas who had been about to step already through the portal, following her dark rangers, turned around, being the last one.

“He did, princess.”

Talanji nodded.

There was a slight hesitation, but then, Sylvanas acted in the heat of the moment. “Since we got that settled now, you can let him go. - It is better when my Horde troops arrive that he's not here anymore. Including his ship. We have an agreement?”

Talanji nodded again. Almost confused – only wanting to fulfill her father's will as soon as possible - that the Warchief of the Horde wanted the  _same_ now while the Warchief's own champion had requested to imprison him, but not letting it on. “We have.”

*

STORMWIND

Anduin had been very quiet during the complete sail home to Stormwind. And Grand-Admiral Jes-Tereth, who worried a lot about the pale young king, had not asked any questions.

Arriving at Stormwind harbor in the evening, Anduin had ordered the 7 th Legion soldiers to return to their quarters, thanked the Grand-Admiral and taken his Lion's Guards to Stormwind Keep.

In a short meeting with Mathias Shaw, Genn Greymane and Lady Katherine Proudmoore, who had stepped through a portal because Anduin found it important to inform her, too, he had explained what had happened – except the part concerning the Warchief's champion beating him up and the Warchief of the Horde visiting him in prison – only to earn head shaking from Genn, worried looks from Lady Proudmoore and the impenetrable face of his Spymaster.

Since he had had enough time on the 'Wind's Redemption' to think it all through, what to mention and what to answer, it was easy for Anduin to appear calm and composed. Yes, he was prepared for the most formal questions, but not for the private ones that were inwardly still nagging at him.

He spoke of the polite welcome from King Rastakhan, from being shown around in Zuldazar, and then having the misfortune of meeting Princess Talanji who wanted first to deal with the Horde. He told them that the Horde's champion had shown up and how the body of Derek Proudmoore had been to him denied after that. That the princess had put him in prison – for his own safety – and explained to him that after dealing with the Horde he would be freed. Which had happened exactly as she had promised him, one day later.

A longer discussion followed, what to do and how to react. Anduin, very tired aftere spending the night in a not very comfortable cell and wishing to excuse himself, told them frankly that there was nothing they could do, seeing the ties between the Horde and the Zandalaris were already under hand and seal. Again, he apologized to Lady Katherine Proudmoore for not being able to bring Derek home and took leave. He was truly exhausted.

Genn had shouted: “Anduin, wait...” after him, but he was fleeing to his private quarters, no longer being able to keep the facade up. He sank down on his knees beside the hearth, the warmth giving him a bit comfort when dry sobs threatened to break through him. How badly he missed his father with all these restless questions haunting him again.

Why? Why? Why had they both not been on the right track, this time? Why did Sylvanas, after he had gotten close to her, turn and left him behind, desperate for catching up? Whatever he did, she always had her own machinations going on, and he would never – ever – succeed of getting her to... peace, now. The sobbing stopped when he heard the knocks outside. Of course. Speaking of peace, was there ever peace possible for him?

“I'm out, right away.” He answered and let the devastation that still had him in its grip stay outside his voice. Drilled in keeping emotions at bay, not even showing glimpses of his burning inner core, he was now fighting with his inner demons. He heard the door crack open – and Genn came in, who stopped right midway seeing Anduin, still trying to gain his composure back, slowly standing up and looking away from him.

There was silence until Anduin, finally, turned around, his balance back in place.

“What is it that you want, Genn, coming in here unannounced?”

“I knocked three times.”

Genn, it seemed, realized for the first time how much of a bad condition the young king truly was in. He knew next to nothing of what Anduin had gone through – since that night Stormwind City had burned, their most important prisoner had escaped and he had had a talk with Anduin he had wanted to forget all the time.

“Anduin...”

The young king shook his head and passed him by, but got swiveled around when the elder Worgen grabbed him by his arm. Determined.

But the young king was determined as well. “Let me go, Genn. There are things to do.”

“I'd like to talk to you, now, Anduin.” The elderly man answered instead, not letting him go.

The bright blue eyes, as tired as ever – and now showing small red traces – started to glisten angry, but the young man remained silent.

“I just realized I never... apologized.” Genn inhaled deeply. “I was so furious...”

Anduin, his heart bleeding, had longed to hear those words – over days, over nights. He pulled his arm out of the elder man's grip. “We all make mistakes, Genn.”

“Anduin...” Genn sighed. “I would have liked to spare you this experience, my king. We all make mistakes, how true. We all fail from time to time. And that you failed the negotiation with the Zandalari is something you should not take personally. You came at a bad time. As King Rastakhan told you himself, to quote your words.”

Anduin turned away, looking out of the window. Yes and no. He had failed his mission, but he also knew that without Talanji's mistrust, he would've succeeded. What broke him really down were the fights he had had to endure. Bad timing, indeed. Misjudged by the Warchief's own champion. The same feeling again when Sylvanas had come into his cell. And the still unanswered question of how she came to love... such a person. Of course, Nathanos Blightcaller had once been a human, too. But now? What was it, then, she had found in him to kiss him in that tunnel, Anduin asked himself. It only strengthened his assumption that he just had been an amusement for her. He shook his head. A part in him still cherished the memory of dancing with her. Feeling... free and happy. And that it had been mutual, at that time, he had felt it. His only happy memory, as it seemed now. Bitterness crawled in.

“Anduin?”

He was reminded of returning back to reality. “I learned my lesson, Genn.”

Did he really? Anduin's hand touched the glass window. It was cold, as cold as a body that had pressed against him – and longing caught him. If only... he closed his eyes, feeling the emotions coming up. Yet, there was shame, now. For his own reactions. That he had answered to sides in him – unknown to him, better untouched, it turned out - that had lead him here, in this hopeless situation. What a fool he was to take a beating without striking back in knowing she had given the other man her heart, too. And that  _he_ was nothing like him, Nathanos Blightcaller. If she were in to such aggressive types – a part of her answered to this aggressiveness, too – he wouldn't have had any chance to come close of her personal ideal of a man anyway. No, he was no strong warrior. He was one that was called a weakling. His hand clenched to a fist.

He suddenly heard Genn's voice behind him. “My king you are not alright.” The Worgen worried.

Taking himself back – at least one thing he was good at – he stepped back from the window and turned around, the impenetrable mask at its place.

“I will be, Genn.” He answered him. “I just need a bit time.”

Genn looked guilty. Slowly, he sat down in one of the chairs that stood next to the fire and Anduin decided to follow him, hovering directly at the hearth and glancing at him.

“I know I treated you wrong. I miss... talking to you. - I already lost a son. I won't lose another. Tell me what I can do for you to forgive me.” Genn's voice was hoarse.

Anduin swallowed. “Genn.” His voice softer, recognizing an imaginary outstretched hand from the elderly man, he looked up to him. “I forgave you a long time ago. It's not that I don't know how much you've been gone through. That's why... that's why you should put some faith in  _me_ and let me try my best.”

Desperation overtook the young man. Suddenly and cautiously, he leaned his head on Genn's knee. “I won't fail  _you_ ... or father.” The words were spoken suffocated.

“Anduin!” Genn gazed fondly at him, his hand slowly touching the young king's head so as not to shy him away – or was it himself that would shy away, too lost and too deep buried in his hidden feelings he had tried to forget a long time ago? In the end, Genn's hand stayed there. “I know you won't fail. I only have to overcome... the burdens of my past that make me fear for you.”

“Genn.” Anduin lifted his head when he looked up to him, fearing to lose his hard maintained control so he put Genn's hand cautiously back on the knee where his head had rested for a short time. Immediately, Genn missed the warmth but was rewarded with a small, very sad smile from Anduin. “I'm glad you're here.”

He meant what he said, Genn could feel it. “I'm glad, too.” He sighed. “So you might also want to tell me what's on your mind that keeps you so distracted from time to time?”

“I'm not distracted.”

“You are. You had been in Kul Tiras, too. I know you long enough, my king. You even fled to your quarters now. Don't deny it.”

Anduin sighed and brushed through his hair. Tired. “Alright. I won't deny it.”

“So what...”

“Don't ask.”

The words were unusually hard spoken for the young king. But they didn't hinder Genn to continue asking.

“How about you put some faith in me? That I learned my lesson, too. I see you're worried, Anduin, and it worries me. I want to help you. Let me in – please.”

Anduin, upon hearing those warm and heartfelt words, hesitated. Was he ready to plunge into another lecture? Perhaps he could... circumscribe it.

“Anduin?”

The young king looked at the elderly man and opened himself a bit up to him. Hurt, as he still was. “Alright, Genn, you asked for it.” He took a deep breath. “Something has... happened. And I don't know what to make of it.”

Genn smiled a little. “Care to tell me what that 'something' is about?”

Anduin suddenly blushed, thinking of a kiss in the tunnel. And Genn, watching him, had a sudden inspiration that it was  _personal_ . When had he been that absent in his youth? When he had thought of Mia? Which could mean... Anduin had met someone? Taelia, perhaps? He gave his inspiration word. “Is it more about 'someone'?”

“Yes.” Anduin was relieved that he didn't have to get around the subject any longer.

“And that 'someone' confuses you?”

“She does...” Anduin's words were spoken before he realized he had to be more careful, but Genn smiled, relieved that it was a matter of the heart. Anduin needed someone at his side. Someone strong.

“You met a girl. - And you developed feelings?”

Anduin took a deep breath, again. Could he ever tell Genn that he had been kissed by their enemy, the Warchief of the Horde? The whole talk was going into another direction as his intention had been. “The thing is, Genn, I don't know...”

“If she feels the same?” Genn helped out, still smiling. “Go on, ask her.” He added.

Anduin folded the arms, leaning back. “I can't.”

Genn shook his head. “Of course, you can, Anduin. The matters of the heart aren't that different from going into a battlefield. All you need is the courage to weather through them.”

Anduin sighed. “I wish it would be that easy, Genn.”

“So what's the problem? She's already... promised to another one?”

“No.” Anduin's answer followed promptly. But then he thought of Nathanos Blightcaller. And that he knew now, they were playing in a completely different league. Anduin closed his eyes, lost.

With Genn, he began to see the utter foolishness of even wanting to be with her. It would have never worked. In this, she had been right. Her words echoed in his mind... 'What for, because we both know all of this can only end on a battlefield?' And had he forgotten what crimes she had done? She had put the torch to Teldrassil, and he had failed those who burned. Lordaeron, blighting her own city, destroying all of it. On the battlefield, when he had seen her raising undead people, making no difference between humans or other races, even not between Alliance or Horde. What had only gotten into him to meet her, there in Ratchet? To flirt with her? Was he so desperate for company... so desperate of another warrior at his side – a question he had asked himself over and over again – to fill in the hole his father had left in his heart, that he even accepted hers? The company of a cruel mind? Of a cunning, deceiving and smart personality? Her words before leaving him back in the cell had been clear enough. 'You win nothing. I'll make sure of it.' No, he had lost and it was time to face the truth. He opened his eyes.

“No?” Genn repeated the young king's last word. “What is it, then?”

“It's complicated.” Anduin evaded the question. 

“If you don't ask her, Anduin, you will never get the answer to your problem. And, believe me, that is the worst thing you can go through. Asking yourself the same question over and over again.” Genn's voice had suddenly turned sad and he looked at his empty hands. “The older you get, the more it haunts you.”

He could've spoken for Sylvanas' perspective as well, Anduin suddenly mused, touched by the Worgen's feelings shining through. Would it haunt her, one day, too? No, he told himself. It only haunted him, the question of  _what if_ ...

“I see you try to come up with a solution to your... problem?” Genn insisted, seeing the young king starting to think again. Immediately, the elderly man spoke the next words. “Tell me who she is and I can mediate with her parents.”

“I'm sorry, Genn.” Anduin shook his head in dead earnest. “You can't. And I won't tell you who she is. Just leave it for now. _Please_.”

Genn would've loved to know who this mysterious girl was – if it was really Taelia -, but then, there were other ways to gather information, and he was thinking about the man who he surprisingly had become closer friends with, since he had turned away from Anduin, in Kul Tiras: Spymaster Mathias Shaw.

“Of course.” Was all the elderly man answered. 

And then, they talked about other things, until Genn bid farewell and Anduin was able to slip beneath the sheets, his thoughts still elsewhere. If  _he_ had acted in the right way. How was it possible to kiss him that passionate and invite him to a second date only to be so quick to condemn him for bargaining with the Zandalari for a dead corpse?

*

ORGRIMMAR

Sylvanas was brooding again. This time, they simply wouldn't let her go, the what ifs. Areiel hadn't spoken a simple word to her the last days. It was almost as if the young king had gained another ally and she would've sneered about it if it wasn't for the bitter realization that she would not succeed this time to get him out of her thoughts. Just when she wanted it to be all over, just when he wanted it to be all over – he had said it in all clarity! - just then, she had problems of letting go.

And it made all her anger, her rage flare up again. Wildly. Sylvanas had trouble to keep the Banshee Queen in her in check so she fled Grommash Hold, this time. She took one of her bats and flew around, officially with the intent to visit Gallywix and check on her champion's status, but unofficially? She felt lost. As if someone had taken her goal. And she didn't know how to cope with it. She didn't know how to get along with it. It wakened long distant memories in her. Memories of something that was far, far gone.

She felt helpless, and she hated it. There was no comfort in her usual patterns anymore. No joy in planning battles. In planning strategies. In planning tactics. And the taste of bitterness returned. One, that reminded her permanently of something else she forbid herself to think of. Which was why she decided suddenly to fly somewhere else.

*

STORMWIND

Anduin buried himself the next days under his work as a king which was never done. Endless petitions to sign, endless talks with the Lords of the Noble Houses, plans to discuss of how to continue the war and how to keep the Alliance together. He endured them all, only to forget the pain in his heart.

And Genn, who wasn't blind to Anduin's quietness, working too much, sleeping too little, thought of it as a good idea when Turalyon asked for another short reunion with Anduin while on his way back from Stromgarde to Kul Tiras to visit Alleria. Perhaps a talk with the other light wielder would get Anduin into a better mood.

And so it was that Anduin had no possibility to say no when Turalyon showed up and asked him for a walk around Stormwind City because the weather was fine, seeing the young king pale and exhausted. Anduin, who was first glad to meet the other light wielder again, was suddenly reminded of all that had happened in Stromgarde, especially when Turalyon spoke about all the measures Danath Trollbane and him had taken to secure it and even explained him some improvements the Drywhisker mine had undergone. Anduin found it all interesting and very important – but once, the three months were over,  _she_ would be there, he was certain. Or even earlier, now? She wouldn't leave the opportunity to make Stromgarde hers. The hurt, the pain, it was there, again. And that he had failed. Completely. He closed his eyes.

“I always wanted to know how you got to...” Turalyon just mentioned while walking, but suddenly missed a person next to him. “Your majesty?” Turalyon looked back. He watched the young king who had stopped and sensed immediately the pain in the other young man. Cautiously, he spoke again. “You don't want to talk about it, your majesty, but I know that sometimes it is better to talk than to stay silent.”

Anduin opened his eyes, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Thank you, High Exarch. - I just need,” here, he sighed, repeating the phrase he had made one of its own now and walked to the side of the elder man, “I just need a bit time.”

Turalyon shook his head. “No, your majesty. You need someone to talk to.”

Another sad smile flew over the young king's face. “Perhaps.”

“You are doubting yourself, which shouldn't be. - Sometimes, when we act with the best intent, with the best care we nevertheless can't change the outcome, your majesty. - Don't lose your kindness because of what happened over there in Zandalar.”

“I try not to, High Exarch.”

“It's not only the try, your majesty, it's the act that counts.”

Anduin was almost tempted to tell the other man more, the one who was bound to  _her_ sister, but better not. The best way was to forget about it, or at least try to take the most precious memory he ever had with him into the grave. Although he would've loved to exchange about the two sisters and what it meant to be at their side, Anduin remained silent. However, he was held back by the other man.

“I don't know what happened, your majesty, but you clearly lost your - how can I say this - your flame of striving for peace? I can only assume, but while in Stromgarde, you came back with inspiration and a smile from that personal talk with the Warchief of the Horde. You told us you succeeded in being given a pause, which enabled Danath and me to have more time for preparations, once the warfront ignites again. And I have no illusions it will do so.”

And in one rush, all of Anduin's memories returned. She just wouldn't let him go. Anduin forced himself to stay calm, a bitter taste in his mouth. From the situation? From a kiss?

“I...,” Anduin was ringing for words, “I met Lady Sylvanas Windrunner in Zandalar again.”

Turalyon's golden eyes rested upon him, quiet.

The young king turned away from the High Exarch, clearly in turmoil, as his clenched fists showed. Why had he even mentioned this? When he had managed to stay silent about it all the time? But Turalyon was with Alleria,  _her_ sister, and he felt something like a kindred spirit in the other man.

“It didn't go the way you wanted it, your majesty?”

“No.” Anduin's answer was short and painful.

The golden eyes remained kind. “Then which way had you preferred the meeting to go?”

The simple and easy question made Anduin almost break. “I hoped for... rapprochement. I was mistaken.”

“But you consider it your fault, not hers.”

“I do.” It took a long time for Anduin to reply. He didn't wonder anymore how Turalyon had found out and named it, the core of his torment. He was together with another Windrunner sister. Did Alleria know how lucky she was? 

“I am still in awe, your majesty,” Turalyon began, “How, in Stromgarde, you tried to get by on using unusual weapons like compromises and talking against the enemy. And it seems to me you were on your way to victory in Zandalar again – if you had not stopped believing in yourself and in what you wanted to gain?”

Anduin's voice turned husky. “I didn't stop believing in myself.” And then, desperate. “I mistook her behavior.” Name it, he thought. “I suspected she came to gloat over me, finally. But now I tend to believe she came to help. And I... I... failed to see it.” He concluded.

Because there had been a sentence in their fight Sylvanas had hurled at him which had come to his mind more often now: 'You made me believe I could trust you.' And which was revealing, in a way.

But Turalyon smiled at him and it was a warm and genuine smile. “Then not all hope is lost, your majesty. - My advice is simple. If your heart tells you to go for it you should do it again. Try to convince _her_ for the better. If not you, there's no one around here who will. And I am acknowledging this here in all truthfulness.”

His words made Anduin smile a bit in return. If he only saw a chance for making it up to Sylvanas. But he had not Areiel. All he had were her last words, hissed towards him, and they spoke of a finality and of a reunion on the battlefield. Nevertheless, a glimpse of hope returned. “Thank you, High Exarch. I will think about it.”

After saying goodbye to Turalyon and walking back to Stormwind Keep, Anduin admitted to himself how much he missed Sylvanas. He pushed aside all the negativity. No anger, no failure, no guilt could cover the fact that him meeting her had inspired him. Pushed him. Shown him that there existed other possibilities, different mindsets and, of course, different behavior patterns. That  _she_ was someone who took him exactly as he was and who allowed him to be like he was. It had opened his eyes to another world compared to the one he had grown up with. And although the thoughts deepened his hurt, they made him smile. 

Anduin knew he would certainly never meet another woman or man again who would wake this passion in him. Wake this stubborn will not to give in. He had told Genn he would only marry for love, but he wasn't fooling himself. If he were so lucky to survive this war, to live long enough, chances were very high he would end in a political marriage. Which was why it was so hard to accept he had lost with Sylvanas a chance he had waited his whole life for, meeting someone equal, intelligent and challenging. He also had lost his chance to gain her trust for bringing peace on Azeroth – but he was the only one to blame for having screwed it.

*

EASTERN KINGDOMS, WINDRUNNER SPIRE

It was eerily quiet since she had been the last time here. Then, it had been together with her sisters. Sylvanas dismounted the bat, graciously, something she still had preserved.

And when she looked around, standing in front of the beautiful and elegant building, the pain she touched upon was still immanent. And present. Her sisters... she had been planning to bring them down to her and instead had let them go and cling to their sorrow-filled lives a little longer.

The rage came back – what did she want here? To leave the living part of her behind or to give herself a reason to hang on to it?

If a bit of the young Wrynn had been in Arthas, she knew now, she would have gotten her clean death. And none of this would have ever happened. But then, she wouldn't be here, either. And she wouldn't have the wish of kissing  _him_ passionately again.

“And what are you doing _here_ , Lady Moon?”

The well-known voice, still familiarly anchored in her head, made Sylvanas swivel around.

Alleria didn't smile. “It's too late for us all to come home.”

“Everything changes.” Sylvanas answered.

“You still see the certain advantages to being undead.”

“Still rude, sister?”

“I'm not here to fight you, Sylvanas. Neither did I expect you to come back here.”

Both sisters looked over to their former home, when Alleria continued. “And you didn't answer my question - as you didn't finish your part in the game we played when we met here the last time.”

“I don't have time for questions.”

“But for coming here?” Alleria threw a questioning look at her sister, who, oddly enough, was very quiet. “Something happened. Won't you tell me what it is?”

Sylvanas hesitated. “I don't know... what to make of it.”

Alleria's look wandered back to Windrunner Spire. “Don't we all.”

“Nicely said.”

Silence followed.

“Did you mean it? That you will never betray us?” Alleria queried suddenly.

“I did.”

“Then _what_ brought you here, sister?”

“Family.” Sylvanas stopped. “Someone saved...”

There was a very curious gaze from her elder sister. In those little words shined hope. Was not all lost with the monstrosity her sister had become? “You did not expect it.”

“No.”

“That there are people who save others? Or is this about someone specific being saved or doing the saving?”

“All of it.”

“It is quite contrary to what we both became. Me, the sister of void, and you, the sister of death. - Mother taught us to fight but not necessarily to save.”

There was silence, again.

“If you won't open up to me, I can't help you, sister.”

Sylvanas smirked. “Didn't  _you_ say you should've killed me when last we met...?”

Alleria fell silent, for a moment. “I did. But my heart didn't mean it. - Why are you here, Lady Moon?”

“Trying to make a decision. One where I don't know the outcome, Alleria.”

“You were ever strong-willed, Sylvanas. You'll know what to do.”

“Why do you believe in me, still?” 

“Because after all, you are my _sister_ – whatever we are to one another now.” Alleria smiled a very small smile. “Time to go.”

She stepped away and opened a void portal, looking back. “And whatever decision you make, I wish you all the best.”

Then, she was gone. And Sylvanas was alone.

*

STORMWIND

It was late in the evening when Anduin finally entered his quarters. The quietness, once a comfort for him, wasn't now. A chance to have time for his own thoughts and dreams – yet, there weren't any anymore. The talk with Turalyon still on his mind, Anduin stared blindly at the fireplace. He recognized Valeera only when she stood in front of him.

“Are you alright? I came as soon as I heard...”

“I am, Valeera, thank you for asking. - What brings you here?”

“The worries about you.”

“I am fine.”

“No, you are not. Don't lie to me.”

Anduin sighed, when his mask started to slip. He had to endure another talk of... this? “I am... alright, at least for now. And I would like to go to bed, now, if you'll excuse me?”

She stepped in his way. “You are hurt. More than hurt. Anduin?”

Anduin turned away from her, her compassion making him feel too much. Of all of these days, she must be here when he just had gathered time for himself to spend an evening in peace – having Genn as company most of the time – and to let his painstaking facade of calmness go for a moment.

“What do you want from me?” He pressed between gritted teeth.

Valeera's worried look met him. “What went wrong, my king? Tell me, please.” Seeing him in such a turmoil alarmed her. “I was told a version of you being in Zandalar where they did not hurt you, or did they and you just didn't want to admit it?”

“Valeera.” Anduin flinched back, knowing she would get the truth out of him the longer she stayed here. “If you have nothing to report to me, can you leave, please? - I need to be alone. I really need to.”

She watched him for a long moment. He was visibly ringing for his composure. Something wasn't right. Something... if she only knew! “Let me help you.” She begged him, changing her tone, but Anduin stepped back once more.

His voice was pleading, too. “Not today, Valeera. - Come by another night. Respect my wish. Please.”

There was one last look at him, then Valeera nodded and vanished through the window.

Anduin was alone now, and let go. Let go of all the emotions that shook him to the core. Of his heart breaking. Of his anger and his sadness. Of his desperation of having lost something that just started to get precious to him. And the pain that went along with it. Would he lose it all, in the end? Was this the price he had to pay, being king? His father – and here, the first sobs gripped him quickly – had spoken of 'what a king must do', yet he had never told him that it also meant to endure losses. Losses of all kind. Anduin broke down, in despair, not knowing what to do. And it was hard to accept, that, again, the feelings he had developed had ended into... nothing. Had lead to nowhere, Wrathion likewise.  _He_ would always be the one left behind: broken, confused, not welcomed. For a second time, he had started to gamble and had lost. But perhaps this was his destiny. To stay alone his whole life. To stay a priest. To never get connected to anyone. Yet – he had so much to give. There was so much he yearned for. How good it had felt to share with Sylvanas these moments, being close, talking intimately, flirting - weren't his wishes something worth, too? Their kiss. He could still feel inside himself the tension, the wonderful surprise when she had pushed him against the wall. The passion, his hunger, his desire, all that she had wakened and he hadn't known he carried inside him. To be able to feel so deep... it came close to wielding the Light but on a different level. Yet, there was one question left he still had no answer to.

“Why?” He sobbed, pressing his fists against his eyes to hinder the tears of coming down. “Why?”


	11. pulling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N**
> 
>  
> 
> I hope to put a smile back on your faces with this chapter, dear readers. That being said, I struggled a lot with it which is why I am a bit late in my schedule with publishing. I hope I am forgiven. :-)
> 
> A never-ending thank you is for you, _Windcage_ , and you, _Taedae_.
> 
> Thank you for leaving a comment, _Elizabethjamesesquire_ , _Sthefyz_ and _Elfvomits_!  
>  And you should be back by now, _PRAISETHEWALLS_! I hope it was a nice trip!
> 
> \- Happy thanksgiving! Jojo
> 
>  
> 
> **BTW rating goes up with the next chapter.**

*

STORMWIND KEEP

“Why?” Anduin whispered.

Suddenly, a cold hand was laid on his shoulder – and Anduin looked up only to stare into Areiel's face. Ashamed of his emotional outburst, he turned away from her, not able to speak a word.

“Yours is a question the Forsaken know by heart, yet, we will never get an answer.”

“I can understand your feeling.” Were Anduin's first words, husky, scarcely audible.

“If I may ask – what got the young king... so agitated?”

“How long... have you been here, Areiel?”

“Enough to watch your other friend come and go.”

“Light, Areiel...” Anduin began but stopped. What did it matter?

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Let's just say it has its advantage, being undead.”

Areiel got furious immediately upon listening to his words. “You have no right to judge us! You should be grateful to feel something, to...!” Suddenly she stopped, too, as if she had realized what she had done, gazing directly into blue eyes, filled with tears.

Anduin's voice was husky again when he took another step back close to the hearth and to its light. “My sincere apologies, Areiel. - I didn't mean it like that. I just meant,” here, his voice broke shortly, “I just meant sometimes it's easier to live without emotional baggage.” He looked to the side. “I am truly sorry, Areiel. I forgot that you are a Forsaken. I really didn't want to offend you.” He swallowed, trying to collect himself although his feelings made him choke.

Dark rangers were educated to be cunning and driven, but Areiel was simply stunned, confronted with raw and blunt emotions. Just like she had been when the young king had saved her with his Light. This human was special, she told herself, because he was able to apologize to an undead person.

For the second time, a cold hand was laid on Anduin's shoulder.

“Neither did I, young king.” Something like warmth crept into her strange echoing voice. “If I may ask again? What happened?”

Anduin shook his head, smiling sadly. “Thank you for asking, Areiel. But I don't want to burden you with my personal issues.”

She watched him very attentively. “It is a long time ago that someone 'burdened' me with anything... ” A genuine smile, not a smirk, threatened to break through her dark aura. “My lady isn't one to do it either, although we dark rangers are all there for her.” She sighed. “I would be honored if you were to – how do the humans call it? - 'let me in', my king.”

Anduin had heard her words well and couldn't do other than shake his head again. “Areiel, I'm not  _your_ king.” He gently told her. “But I feel honored by your offer.”

To his great astonishment, the undead elf suddenly kneeled in front of him. “If I were reborn, I would choose you as my king.” She simply said and made Anduin speechless. “Shandris was right. I will cling no longer to my outdated views on humans.”

“Areiel, please rise.” After a moment of silence, Anduin offered her his hand and helped her getting up. “There's no need to kneel in front of me. Really. It is enough for me to have found a friend in you. To have actual proof that humans and forsaken can be -” He shook his head, feeling as the red eyes bored into him. 

“Then am I allowed to query again after your... emotions? As a friend.”

Anduin sighed. “Alright. As a friend, I think I owe you an answer. - Your Dark Lady visited me in my cell in Zuldazar. And we had a fight. And I...” Anduin paused and leaned his head against the wall, because he felt in despair once more. “I guess I reacted badly. In retrospective, I think she came to help me. Not to gloat, as I first suspected.”

Areiel listened and shook her head, smirking. “So that's why she came back in such a bad mood. We all fled Grommash Hold, afterwards. Including Nathanos, who arrived a great deal later, which means a lot, because so far, he has endured all of her mood swings. I assumed it had to do with you, my king, but I wasn't certain.”

Anduin rubbed his eyes. “You won't give up on calling me 'my king' from now on, am I right?”

“No.”

“Why did you come here to begin with, Areiel?”

“To see how you are holding up? - To know what happened when she visited you?”

Anduin was still perplexed when Areiel continued explaining.

“Princess Talanji denied her the right to visit you, at first, but gave in after our Dark Lady promised her to only ask you questions – she even threatened the troll princess slightly, by refusing help for her planned raid in Uldir if she were not to give in to her wish. Yet the Princess insisted that we, her Dark Rangers, stayed behind at the Grand Pyramid, so the Dark Lady was going alone with the Zandalari warriors.”

He looked at her. Cautiously searching for words. “She came to Dazar'alor... to visit me, among other things?” By the Light, it would confirm his train of thought. It really would.

“Yes, my king.” 

Anduin remained silent.

“So you were subjected to conflict?”

“It was rather a quarrel, Areiel. A bad one...”

“Nothing that can't be undone?” 

“I don't know. I need to think this through. I really need to.”

Areiel sighed. “You know, my king, since she returned from Ratchet, it is her habit to stay each evening in the throne room of Grommash Hold. Each evening, she sits there and does... a human thing, she said to me, which is called 'brooding'.”

Anduin stared at her. “Each evening?”

Areiel nodded. “At the time all other living are in bed. - And if I am allowed to make a guess, I tend to believe she thinks of you, because even Nathanos has no permission to enter.”

Anduin shook his head. “This doesn't make it any easier.”

The Ranger Captain eyed him. “What more proof do you need, my king, than her meeting you in Ratchet? She told me it was no debt, so I concluded you had not forced our Dark Lady. But she came to you deliberately. Of her own free will. My king, no one ever before succeeded in making her do so.”

Anduin smiled slightly at her. “The same goes for me, Areiel. - Yet, she wears so much mistrust, it's hard... it's hard to get through to her. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here, wrestling with myself.” He stared at the fire.

Turalyon's words were suddenly on his mind: 'sometimes it is better to talk than to stay silent'. He only needed one chance to apologize and perhaps reestablish a bit of the trust he was certain to have lost. His hope returned.

“Areiel – will you tell her my message? That I want to meet her? The Darkmoon Faire starts tomorrow. Can you tell her that I will be there, waiting for her at the new Darkmoon Rollercoaster? At nightfall?”

“I'll do my best, my king.”

*

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

The days had seen Sylvanas busy. She came back late at night, landing with her bat outside of Orgrimmar to stay for a moment upon the rocks above the illuminated city, looking down at the red valleys and the spiked metal towers and buildings typical of the Horde. To think. _Again_ . It seemed she was spared nothing.

Having met Alleria once more and their talk still... amazed her. Shocked her. How easy it had been to fall back to a former bond and how easy it had been to communicate with her. In searching for a direction, she had gotten advice in an unexpected form.

In a likewise manner, the memory of a stirring kiss she couldn't fathom why she had initiated it stuck with her.

Hell, no. She knew exactly  _why_ she had done it. The living part in her - still reckless as if there was something in her being undead which could be at stake! - that the young Wrynn had cunningly managed to address, had wanted to find out if there was more underneath his boring armor of proclaiming peace and being good and holy and justly lawful. And to her surprise, there was  _more_ . A deep passion she had never suspected, one, she was more than able to relate to for having shared it in the past. A warmth she was touched with and made her aware of the cold she was living in. An effort to understand her suffering like nobody had ever dared trying. A will not to judge her, first and foremost. And a dry humor – not often shown – she felt challenged to respond to.

A nagging question remained. Was it not better to leave things as they were now? At war, without complications.

When she finally entered Grommash Hold, her nightly brooding respected now even by her own champion, she crashed into Areiel, to her big surprise. Her Ranger Captain, who had avoided her to a certain degree, showed up?

Areiel stepped forward and kneeled in front of her Dark Lady.

“I just came back from Stormwind.”

Silence followed, when Sylvanas stumbled and stared – incredulously - down at her most loyal Ranger Captain whose eyes were cast down to the floor. Her icy calm, hardly fought for, was gone in an instant.

“You acted against my wish?”

“You mentioned not such a wish, my lady.”

“It is over. I have held the end of my bargain.”

This time, Areiel looked up to her. “You sent me to him for another date. But then, you changed your mind. - I wanted to know what happened, my lady!”

“In sticking your nose in other people's business, Areiel?” Sylvanas started to get very, very angry. She hurled the next words at her. “How come you, of all my dark rangers, are disobeying me? Has  _he_...”

“Because you both obviously do things for each other you wouldn't do for anybody else.” Areiel interrupted her matter-of-factly.

Words failed Sylvanas for a long time when leaving her staring at her Ranger Captain again. Among other feelings, shock, confusion and the worst one, betrayal, slowly crept in her thoughts. Betrayal by her own...?

Areiel saw the dark shadows on the face of the Banshee Queen and sensed which conclusions she was drawing. She shook her head. “I did not betray you, my Dark Lady. I simply asked  _him_ what went wrong between the two of you because I got no answer from you.”

Sylvanas turned away at first, struggling obviously with herself. However, she simply couldn't stop herself, something in her was burning, wishing to know more. Of course, the young king would've talked to Areiel. A flare of jealousy raged through her, that her Ranger Captain had had the possibility to meet him but it was denied to her. How she hated the way things were, yet she felt incapable of doing something. Her voice sharpened. “What did he tell you?”

Areiel stood up. “That you both had a fight in his cell in Zuldazar. That he reacted badly. That he...”

“Badly?”

Areiel nodded. “He suspected you came to gloat, but changed his view of the situation and now thinks of you wanted to rescue him – a suspicion which I confirmed.”

Sylvanas' eyes glowed but she remained silent, which made Areiel pursue her goal. “He is heartbroken because he feels guilty, my lady.”

“He does?” A cruel smile played around Sylvanas' lips. Revenge, at last, for what he had done to her. For what he had said to her!

“He asks for another meeting with you.” Areiel finished.

Another long silence followed her words. Sylvanas' smile turned into a smirk. Wasn't this  exactly what her suggestion had been before, to meet for a second time? She laughed at herself, inwardly. The boy-king was on her mind. She couldn't rip him out. The hunger for what he offered her wasn't gone, no, it intensified every time  _his_ smile found its way into her thoughts. At a single blow, the solution she had searched for seemed close at hand. She found herself asking her expectantly waiting dark ranger for more information.

“Where and when?”

“The Darkmoon Faire on Darkmoon Island tomorrow, my lady. He waits for you at the new rollercoaster at nightfall.”

“I see.”

*

DARKMOON ISLAND

The Darkmoon Faire was crowded, but not overcrowded. Anduin was grateful for the existence of neutral places on Azeroth which allowed both factions to meet, to deal and to speak with each other. Silas Darkmoon must have thought the same.

He had once been here, with his father, a rare day where he was allowed to be a child, to have fun, to ride the carousels and to see his father laugh and relax, spending time with him. And only him. And because it had been a happy place for him, he thought about meeting here with Sylvanas, too. Would she come? Doubts had him in their grip. Either way, it would answer his question about if she had meant what she had said or not.

The day – although busy – had helped him to get back on his feet. Falling deep into his emotional side, feeling wrecked, it had nevertheless given him a great insight on how hard he was falling for her and told him that he was willing to see her again – even if only to have the possibility to apologize for what he had said to her. To be at least allowed to explain himself and to get to know what went wrong in Zuldazar instead of puzzling over it on and on. A small sign would have been enough, he tried to comfort himself. But then, the beating and Talanji's eagerness to please the Horde having forced him to spend a night without sleep in prison had lead to consequences he couldn't have foreseen. Neither could she have foreseen them, he now assumed. He had never considered that perhaps Sylvanas hadn't been informed of Nathanos showing up and had only heard of it later? There had been proof of her not knowing all that was going on in her faction in the past. Questions and questions again, something he knew she didn't like at all but  _he_ needed answers. If he were to get them. If. - If not, he truly had to wait for the battlefield. 

The loss of trust was what he feared the most and therefore it was important to make her understand that she could still trust him. Whatever happened. He looked at the rollercoaster where most of the Darkmoon Faire's action took place. Still no sight of her -

It was then that he suddenly recognized a black cloak, one she had once worn.

He couldn't stop himself from smiling although her appearance was like a punch in the gut. His heart started to beat fast, the thrill of seeing her passing through him like a mixture of thunder and lightning. The way Sylvanas was on her way to him, Anduin would memorize his whole life: The swaying of her hips, the smirk that was on her lips, the red eyes that started to glow and told him she was in turmoil as well. So. She had not meant what she had said? 'You win nothing. I'll make sure of that.'

Sylvanas had already identified him and the way he leaned against the bars of the beer tent nearby the new Darkmoon Rollercoaster which attracted a lot of people. But the frequency of the people decreased significantly where he stood, scanning the crowd.  _For her_ . She would recognize his figure everywhere, even when he was in dark clothes and wore a hood like herself to cover his blonde hair. She was hungry for the lean, well formed physique she had had the pleasure to be pressed against, having seen with her own eyes how he looked like underneath – and while picturing the image of him bathing like a magical being in the soft light of Vol'dun's moon she realized something stirred in her –, and for the feeling of control of a different kind he had given her. Yet, she had fought with herself until the very end, until she stepped towards that portal, asking herself if it was wise to meet him again or not. But she was tired of fighting. The pull in her had been stronger. 

She wanted  to give in to the living part in herself. The young king could be her only chance at getting back some of what Arthas had taken away from her. Her being undead was infinite - if she preserved it. What was to her a small deviation? Perhaps something that helped her endure the blatant monotony of all of this a bit longer. He was nurturing a growing need in her and a facet of her personality she had almost forgotten. A side she had tried to fulfill with Nathanos but her champion had been unwilling to do so. That was something that still hurt her deep down although she had tried to come to an arrangement with the given situation. Now she was curious about what the young Wrynn had to offer. And to offer, she was certain, he had.

The way he held her gaze, not letting go, proved that he had more to say. Yet, she had not forgotten their heated exchange in Zuldazar.

“King Wrynn.”

The smile on his lips vanished but he stayed calm. “Lady Windrunner.”

“I came for you to tell me...?”

Anduin groaned inwardly that she got to the point as quickly as possible, but he hit the ground running, summoning his courage.

“You came for me to say I'm sorry.”

The abrasive voice lasted. “I told you once there's no need for manners.”

He sighed. “Sylvanas. Please accept my apologies. I -”

“Wrynn. Are these the only important news from Stormwind that got me here?” 

Against his will, Anduin blushed, being put off his stride. Already at the beginning, he scolded himself. By the Light, he had thought a thousand times about this – and now he failed. In the most important moment. Anger at himself made his answer come out sharper than he intended.

“Just because one human damned you for your lifetime doesn't mean one human can't apologize for how he reacted. Blaming you for being beaten up. For you coming only to triumph over me. For suspecting the worse.”

Long, elegant raised eyebrows were his answer.

“You acted like all the others did, Wrynn. You may take comfort in that.”

He got a bit angry with her not taking him seriously enough but he managed to keep his composure.

“I don't want you to comfort me with your simplistic way of lumping me together with all others, Sylvanas. I just told you why I acted like I did. And I wanted to let you know...” 

Piercing red eyes glanced at him. “The boy-king at making excuses again?”

“No.” Anduin shook his head. Determined. “Not excuses, explanations. - Yet, I don't know why you really came to me in the Barracks.”

“It's not important anymore.” She refused.

“But it is.” Anduin focused on her. “To me. - Why did you come?”

“As you said yourself...”

“Why, Sylvanas?”

Silence followed, but Anduin didn't want to give in. “Why?”

She remained silent.

He insisted. “I would like to have an answer.”

“Why do you need one, Wrynn?” She provoked him. “We both – you and I – know that there are issues between us that will never be overcome. Stop this nonsense. We may have been on a good basis for one evening, but this behavior isn't even worth of a boy much less a king.”

Anduin heard her mocking words but chose to ignore them, stepping closer to her. “Give me a chance, Sylvanas.” He swallowed. “There is no need for me to tell you that from the first moment we started those discussions you made me feel comfortable with you. I grew up with a fierce warrior around me – most of the time – not that different from you...”

“So I am like a father to you?”

Anduin rolled his eyes that she chose to misunderstand him deliberately. “What I mean, is... I don't fear you. Not since we met in the Stockades.” Here, he stocked a bit. “I mean to tell you that you're the only one who allows me to be the way I am. You never placed any expectations in me and it was an eye-opener for me, living up to expectations for eighteen years.”

She listened to him, those red eyes glowing, yet she didn't step back. The fascination that she had for this young man had her in a strong grip, while hearing him confessing, honest to a fault. Yet, this was not what she wanted to hear.

“ _Why_ do you need an answer from me, Wrynn?”

A glove with metallic claws grabbed his jaw and forced him to look directly into her red piercing eyes and he was too late to hide his emotional turmoil.

“There is something else, boy-king. Won't you tell me or should I take a guess?” 

Anduin fought with himself. He tried to turn his head, but strong fingers held him tight. The Light in him, sensing his turmoil, threatened to break through and in fear of hurting her, he tried to suppress it, deepening the feeling of being cornered.

“This is not funny, boy-king, so you better talk.”

He was not breaking her eye-contact. “No.” He answered. “It never was. - What do you want to hear, Lady Windrunner?” Anduin  was confused about her exerting pressure on him, so it took him a moment to continue . “That my own personal well-being is dependent on you? That -” here, he hesitated shortly to find the right words, “the blunt truth, my apologies, is that I hoped we would carry on where we left despite the difficulties, because -” Anduin's defiance came through, “you let me feel what I've never felt before. It's as simple as that.”

There was dead silence.

Anduin inhaled deeply and decided to return to his question. “So why did  _you_ come?”

“What did Areiel tell you about me?”

“She found me when I was heartbroken.” Anduin shook his head. “I wasn't able to listen...”

He gazed at her. “Why did you come to my cell?”

There was – finally - a twitch at her mouth. “You mean why we ended up in a fight?” She shook her head, too, and let his jaw go. “Somehow, we always do, Wrynn.”

“We don't,” Anduin began, “I don't want to end up in a fight with you today. Can we just...”

She interrupted him. No, she wasn't done with him confessing. “You were heartbroken... about what?”

He threw her another glance. “You?”

“Why?”

“Because you left without saying goodbye?”

“You didn't attach great importance to it.”

“Sylvanas -”

“And you and I, we're not on a first name basis, Wrynn. So stop calling me by my name.”

“You are going to break my heart, Warchief.” He retorted, turning away from her for a moment, torn apart between shaking her and kissing her.

“More of your strong belief that the world is yours, you stubborn prat.” She replied dryly.

He shook his head again. “That is where you're wrong. I won't give up the fight. Not for you.”

“For me?”

He didn't care what his words implied. “For you.”

There was suddenly a seriousness about her he had never seen before. “I am not -” she shook her head, too. “I am not what you want me to be, boy-king. I am the Banshee Queen.”

Yet, there was a slight smile on his face. “Don't you think I know?”

She answered him with a half amused, half indignant look. “Because you believe in something like redemption doesn't mean others believe as well.”

He stepped back to her. So that's where  _her_ doubts lay? “I'm not one who forces others to share my opinion. You were once bound so you know how much free will is worth. - Yet don't expect me to give up on my belief either. Especially when it comes to you.”

She couldn't do anything else but tease him again. “I should feel honored that you waste so much time thinking about me, yet I advise you to look for someone else.”

“Is this the first advice I get from you?” Bright blue eyes were directly in front of her red ones and the tension was palpable again. Hell what was it that this young boy possessed that brought her to make a turn although she had the higher ground, this time? To give in her daily fights... only once. To have him. To possess him. No. Silliness wasn't asked among undead.

“You would receive more advice from me if you were inclined to listen instead of searching on your own.”

“I always listen to what you have to say.” He added, his voice still husky. “It stands in your power...”

She raised her long eyebrows but chose to stay close to him, not wanting to give up the magnetic pull of being near him just yet. “Power? Over you? Only in your  _dreams_ .”

Her last word made Anduin's cheeks turn red. He had spoken his thoughts before he could stop himself. “If you were to know about my dreams...”

There was something in Sylvanas that wanted to know. “Tell me.” And because of their tension she couldn't resist to add playfully: “Am I the top or the bottom?”

He couldn't blush more and flinched back. “Light, Sylvanas – stop mocking me.”

Knowing he was on his way to step back from her, literally, she grabbed him by his wrists and pulled him back to her. “Tell me.”

He let her have his wrists, but shook his head. “What for?”

“Let _me_ in, boy-king.”

“In the way you won't let me?”

His initial question was outstanding. Anduin was waiting for an answer that didn't come, while realizing that he was still left to  guess what  _exactly_ had made her visit him in Zuldazar. It wasn't fair. Could he force her to admit it? Probably never. It made his heart sink. If she wasn't willing to make a step towards him, then this was their last meeting, indeed. He took a deep breath, broke out of her grip and made a gesture with his other hand.

“You are free to go, Warchief, if you want to.”

One look met his eyes. He made it quite easy for her, Sylvanas realized. But she had also heard the slight tremble in his voice. That he cared for what she did, now. She wasn't good with expressing herself. Never had been. Not like him with his diplomatic – and social - skills, shown once more in giving her an easy way out without losing face.

Hadn't she come here to  _not_ take the easy way out? Anger and discontent started to simmer in her. “Hell Wrynn I came here at your request. And now you tell me to go?”

And in her hot temper, a touch of regret that he had broken out of her grip brushed her heart - the prey she had been almost sure of...

She stepped forth, the predator in her grabbing him and kissing him. Hungrily. Wildly. His equal response went straight to her core, waking something in her. What began like an intrusion into his mouth grew into full connecting. Sylvanas' will was completely overrun by this deep kiss, the memories of former times – how it was done – crashing down on her not like a soft sprinkle of rain, but like a hard downpour. She couldn't deny anymore the effect he had on her.

By the Light, Anduin hadn't expected such a reaction from her when all that was left for him was to answer the kiss, swept off his feet by Sylvanas' intensity and fierceness. When he got the first chance to break off and breathe after the wild kiss, he commented gently: “I know this is your way of avoiding my question, Lady Windrunner, but I need – I really do – to hear from you why you came to me in Zuldazar. Loud and clear enough. Please.”

The way he said it reminded her of another date they had, and the anger she almost gave into when  _he_ had the audacity to end their kiss cooled and a smirk graced her lips. “I see. I already told you too much.”

“You didn't tell me the one thing I want to hear.”

“Didn'tI tell you over and over again that you won't get far with being stubborn?”

He picked up her thread. “You'd be surprised.”

“So...”

“Your answer, Warchief.” He pressed. And when she promptly turned away, he held her back. “Why did you go so far as to threaten Princess Talanji into being allowed to visit me?”

A disapproving frown was his answer. “How do you know... of course. Areiel.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She hesitated long, but Anduin waited patiently. “Sylvanas.” He softened his tone.

She looked at him and the way he called her by her given name stirred something in her again. Alleria's words were suddenly present: 'You were ever strong-willed, Sylvanas. You'll know what to do.' He  had been open about his feelings. From the beginning. His honesty, that disarmed her and helped her master her usual mistrust that was so deeply ingrained in her heart. She would never find out what the challenge between the two of them was about if she were not to concede here, to the young king. Sylvanas was well aware of the finality in his words. “I came for you.”

He just looked at her. “Why didn't you say it when I asked you, in the cell?”

“Wrynn -”

“Not the argument of being undead, Lady Windrunner.” He answered. “You know exactly how to hurt me. And what to say and when.”

“It is not...”

“It is, sometimes, very easy to name what is important, dear Warchief. Don't fool me. You're smart enough for the both of us.”

“Hell, Wrynn, all I said was...”

“That you...?”

She felt cornered and turned away.

Anduin sighed. Although he had clarity, somehow the situation wasn't solved properly but it was time to go, he was on schedule, so he spoke to her back. “I am sorry but I need to leave, my time is limited today.”

This got him a bit of a mocking answer. “You have to state your business to the Alliance or is it the other way round?”

Anduin smirked but stepped beside her, taking shortly her hand into his and holding it.

“I have things to attend to which I can't put away as easy as the Warchief of the Horde – besides, the same goes for you. Will you walk with me to the portals?”

A questioning side look with raised eyebrows met him but she moved along with him.

“You already know my timetable, Wrynn?”

“No.” He smiled now but took finally the liberty of addressing the issue he wanted to since Areiel had come first to Stormwind. “It's another matter. Areiel asked me to...”

“I have to punish her for treachery.”

“Sylvanas -,” Anduin turned towards her, “The issue is serious otherwise she wouldn't have asked me. She wanted to tell you but she thought me the better messenger for it.”

“The better messenger?”

“It concerns your champion.”

“Nathanos?”

“Yes. He -”

“This is none of your business, Wrynn!”

“Wait. Hear me out.” Anduin looked directly at her. “All Areiel asked me for was to tell you to act more carefully around him. He is suspicious of something. Areiel is in his focus the whole time. And she fears you are not excluded.”

This made her stop. For a moment.

“Why did she explicitly tell you this?” There was a lot of reproach in her voice.

“She wanted to make sure that I take our next date seriously. It was one condition I had to promise.”

Sylvanas stared at him but didn't say a word.

“Family, remember?” Anduin teased her in a humorous way but she remained silent. They moved on.

“How much did he hurt you?” 

Her question, unexpected, made Anduin look away for a moment, knowing she was speaking of Nathanos.

“Enough – but let's not talk about it now. There are much more urgent matters at hand and my time is really limited.”

The piercing red eyes stayed on him. “I'll make it up to you.”

Anduin blushed, aware of her innuendo. “No need, Lady Windrunner.” He gave her a short sideway glance. “I only want to have what you are willing to give.” Did this mean this wasn't the end? There was hope for him... for another meeting, perhaps? “Speaking of which, will you listen to the words of your Ranger Captain and be careful with your actions in the future?”

“We'll see.”

“Then it is settled.”

“Are you fleeing from me again, Wrynn?”

Now it was on him to stop briefly. “I came here to apologize, Lady Windrunner, and hoped...” Anduin hesitated. “I hoped that you would still consider trusting me in the future.” He swallowed. “I wasn't so bold to think that we might remain... something like friends.”

Hell if she didn't know better, his words sounded almost like a farewell? If  _she_ wasn't able to take the easy way out, neither would  _he_ .

“You still owe me three hours, Wrynn.”

“I do?” 

“Is the King's own time limited in three days?”

Anduin stared at her, surprise and joy suddenly both on his face. Did she imply... ?

“That's when Hallow's End starts in Stormwind...” He didn't get to finish his sentence.

“In Orgrimmar as well.” She replied dryly, moderating her voice. “Your attendance is required for how long?”

He was stunned, forbidding his thoughts to wander when he slowly answered her: “Do you  ask me for another date?”

Sylvanas smirked. “To my conditions, remember, boy-king?”

“I know.”

“Can you be at the end of the dockyards after sunset?”

All Anduin could do was raise his eyebrows. Her proposal made him speechless.

“I will pick you up.”

“You will pick me up?”

“You fear bats?”

“No.”

She nodded and stepped back, turning towards the Horde portal they had neared.

“Then bethere, Wrynn.”

“I will.”

He stared after her, seeing her walk towards her faction's portal line. She wanted to surprise him? He realized only when he finally succeeded to step through the Alliance's portal and made his way home to Stormwind Keep that his heart was still beating fast. That he had a smile on his lips. That he was still thinking of a wild kiss.

*

STORMWIND CITY, OLD TOWN

At the very same evening the young king had to attend a meeting of the House of Nobles in the Trader's Hall in Stormwind City, his spymaster and his father's best friend sat together in one of Stormwind's most renowned inns, the Pig and Whistle Tavern, at a table at the end of the bar, a bit separated from the rest of the public. Elly Langston, the smiling and attractive barmaid had just taken their order of food, when Mathias Shaw spoke, picking up the thread they had just started to discuss.

“I have significantly fewer things than expected on him. Sometimes I don't know what to make of him. Quite contrary to his father.”

“He can be very private, Mathias, and there is nothing you and I can do about it. Which is why I need your help.”

“You need my help?” Shaw laughed a heartily laugh. “What needs done, Genn?”

“I had quite an enlightening talk with our young protégé days before.” Genn grinned, taking another sip from the excellent Hearthglen Ambrosia the spymaster, a well-received and regular guest in the tavern, had ordered for the both of them.

Shaw raised his eyebrows. “You had? - His behavior has been unusual since he returned from Zuldazar. It's not that I hadn't warned him but I guess it is time for him to make his own experiences.”

Genn only nodded. “He insists on being a grown up. Now to the important part. – He confessed that he met somebody. More specifically, a girl.”

“A girl?” Shaw leaned forward. “For the Alliance, these are the best news I've heard for a while. Who is she?”

“I hope it is Taelia Fordragon with whom he had a nice exchange in Boralus, but quite frankly, I am left in the dark with my guesses.”

“You have no clue who she is? _You,_ of all? Really?”

Genn looked in Mathias' unmoved face but grinned again, not missing the irony in his friend's words. “He made quite a secret out of her so I hoped  _you_ can tell me more. Aren't your spies everywhere?”

“Genn. I may know all about the people here in Stormwind City – but our young man? I don't keep track of him, we fight in the shadows.” He laughed a dry laugh. “You might want to excuse me, but I truly didn't think he's already there... you know... the thing with the birds and the bees...”

Genn snorted with laughter and couldn't stop himself from spitting out a bit of the good Ambrosia, being reminded of how Anduin had avoided the topic at all costs previously and was blushing every time the Worgen touched upon it.

“Can you find out who she is?”

Shaw was grinning broadly, too. “Of course I can, Genn. It's a point of honor, now.”

“Here's to our young man finding hopefully someone worthy.”Genn toasted.

They clinked glasses together.

*

STORMWIND KEEP

Anduin, finally back in his private quarters after the long session in the Trader's Hall, sat down in front of his hearth and let the fire warm his bones. He was exhausted. But his heart was still singing and made him smile. He would see her again. They had a date!

The smile wasn't gone even as the shadows moved behind him and a well-known voice spoke to him.

“And what put you in such a good mood?”

“I'll see her again, Valeera.” Anduin answered and handed a glass of Stormwind tawny to her when she joined him by the fireplace.

“I see.” She took it and sipped, enjoying the taste. “Yet, I came here in the hope of you telling me now what went wrong in Zuldazar. I was worried, my king.” 

Anduin declined. “It may not be important anymore.”

“I think it is, my king. I've never seen you before – in such an emotional turmoil.”

Anduin sighed and looked at her. Thoughtful.

“These are hard times for me, Valeera. - No need to say I miss my father. We're at war. And everything didn't go as planned in Zuldazar. I... I really wanted to get Derek Proudmoore's corpse back to Jaina and her mother, but I failed miserably. And I fear,” Anduin sighed again, “I fear they will meet him under different circumstances now which I wanted to spare them.”

Valeera examined him. “You fear already the worst? That he will become an undead?”

“If he isn't already one, yes.” Anduin admitted.

Silence followed.

“You know, my king,” Valeera continued in a most neutral tone, “there's a rumor in the Horde claiming the Warchief's own champion has beaten you up.”

In the sudden hush, one could hear a pin drop.

“Since you don't deny it I have to believe it is indeed true.” Valeera added wryly, only to scold him a bit later. “Light, Anduin – why didn't you tell anyone?”

Anduin looked at her, the hurt in his face obvious, but he replied in a determined way. “Because you as well as I know what the dire consequences would be. Genn? The first to jump the gun! And Jaina and Shaw straight behind. Tyrande as well, after Teldrassil.”

“And she would have every right to do it, my king.”

Anduin shook his head. “I don't need more complications right now, Valeera. This war,” - here, he swallowed visibly - “this war demands all of me. The losses of lives rise beyond measure! I won't add more fuel to the already existing insurmountable conflict between the factions.” He paused for a moment. “I am responsible for the entire Alliance. It would be rather short-sighted to estimate that the Horde is done with one strike as all believe. And the Horde has the Zandalari now at its side. - I am the High King of the Alliance. I was sitting a long night in a prison and was forced to think about what would actually happen if I were to be in enemies' hands. No! I have to save those who are trusted into my responsibility. I have to find another way, but it takes time. And time is not on my hands but I will do what I can to stall for now, not to shed more blood than needed!”

Anduin stopped himself, the desperation behind his words quite obvious and took a deep breath. “I try not to fail my father.” He concluded, very tired. “But I prefer the lesser of two evils.”

Valeera had listened in silence. “And this is why you kept quiet? Although you were hurt, without reason?”

There was reason, Anduin thought, only Nathanos had assumed wrongly, thank the Light.

“Will you stay silent about it, Valeera?”

“One day, somebody will find out.”

“I'm inclined to wait for that day.”

“My king.” Valeera sighed as well, but didn't know how to solve the situation better. “Why didn't you tell me right away? You were tormented that evening when I showed up.”

Anduin hesitated. “I couldn't, Valeera. And I would give a lot, believe me, to erase this memory. Yet, I am a healer and Princess Talanji ended it before it got worse. And that's all there is to say.”

Perhaps there was a time when he could tell her the real reason behind this fight but not now. His mind returned to Sylvanas and how he wanted to enjoy his next date with her – which would most probably be their last. It didn't matter. After all he had endured the recent days, it was a highlight in his life. Wherever she wanted to take him. A smile stole on his face, which Valeera saw.

“So will you tell me when you meet her again?”

“In three days, Valeera. - And before you are going to ask me, I don't know where. It's a surprise.”

“You put a lot of trust in her. And you promised me to let me know, my king.”

“I'll try, Valeera.”

The blood elf accepted the young king's answer and left it at that. She liked the way he smiled – not having forgotten how desperate he was last time – and the glow in his eyes. After all, Anduin deserved some happy hours  _more_ than anybody else.

She raised her glass and grinned. “Then let's drink to your Horde girl and your next date.”

Anduin threw a quick glance at her but didn't lose his smile when he clinked glasses with her.

“Valeera, she's not my girl. - And the truth is, I don't think she will ever be as much as I want it. Circumstances just won't allow it. But there's still hope.”

She nodded. “I see that there is, my king. Which is a good thing - because you stay realistic about how it goes.”

Anduin had a winning smile when he confided in her. “I am determined to be there, Valeera. Whatever it takes.”


	12. merging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N**  
>   
> 
> I poured all my heart in this chapter. Hence I am very afraid to fail you all. Sorry in advance if I do. I also portray Sylvanas way more gentle in handling Anduin because I firmly believe he lures the human side out of her. They connect here through feelings, which is why I emphasized them and put them at the forefront. And they make love, here.
> 
> Next chapter will be up at the end of January 2019. _Merry Christmas to you all!_
> 
> In case you would like to have the same butterflies Anduin has, just listen a bit to Rameses B "butterflies (AK remix)", the song can be found on youtube.
> 
> I owe you a lot, _Windcage_ and _Taedae_. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> And another thank you very much for leaving a wonderful comment, _Ryuujin_ (here it is what you were hopefully waiting for!), _Estridde_ , _PRAISETHEWALLS_ , _DLEVorts_ and _Elfvomits_!!!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Find a place to rest. Take your time to enjoy. Please.**

*

STORMWIND KEEP, 3 days later

The young King of Stormwind had spent the most part of the day taking care of his duties and was sitting at his father's desk signing petitions when Spymaster Shaw had entered in the late afternoon, low rays of sunshine painting the room in warm light, and found it necessary to inform him about the recent events.

Anduin hadn't slept well last night, almost not at all, trying not to think too much about this evening. Fearing, hoping, smiling, scolding himself, wondering – what was wrong with him? He had succeeded the former nights, telling himself there was still one day to think about it. Now, the moment was here and he didn't feel up to the mark.

His attention returned to Shaw, who was clearly not pleased with the news he was currently reporting.

“It is of utmost importance for us to fight back, your majesty. As I have already mentioned, the Horde has not _only_ attacked Anglepoint Wharf in Kul Tiras and forced Lady Jaina Proudmoore as the new Lord Admiral to act accordingly, no, they also had the audacity to free Lady Priscilla Ashvane yesterday.”

Anduin who had listened quietly until now, raised his eyebrows. “Lady Ashvane?”

Shaw nodded. “You might remember, your majesty, that she had tried to overthrow the Proudmoore family in Boralus until Lady Jaina intervened by returning the Kul Tiran fleet with Tandred Proudmoore which had disappeared completely some time. Lady Ashvane was captured and put in the prison of Tol Dagor.”

“What business has the Horde got to do with the former head of the Ashvane Trading Company?” 

The spymaster shook his head. “Besides her being one of the greatest enemies of Kul Tiras, your majesty?” He remained unblinking. “It is said that her company created Azerite weapons. Her chemists were very sure of their results in refining it.”

“It is an extremely potent and powerful material.” Anduin commented. “And it can be used to power machines and weapons.” He sighed.

Shaw nodded. “Which is why we think the Horde is interested in her. It could be, moreover, associated with the Horde attacking our Azerite supply in Norwington Estate.” After a brief pause, he went on. “I will return to Boralus tomorrow and drive the next mission forward. Our plan is to steal back the relic that was stolen from Kul Tiras during the Horde's strike on Boralus, not that long ago. The relic is called the Abyssal Scepter and is of great use. Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Magister Umbric and Flynn Fairwind have pledged their aid to ensure the success of the plan.”

Shaw watched the young King of Stormwind who rubbed his eyes. Tired, it seemed -

“And, your majesty,” he chimed in at once, “sooner rather than later we have to discuss our march to Nazmir and the planned assault on Zandalar -” 

“Not tonight, Spymaster.” Anduin interrupted him. He looked at the old wall clock and pressed his fingertips to the temples. “I'm going to announce the next council after your return. Right now, I have to attend another appointment.”

He got an inquiring look, he knew it but he didn't care. He really wanted to be on time where Sylvanas would wait for him, as agreed. Having no clue what to expect was still nagging at him but he had forbidden himself to let his mind wander. He would take what he got, nothing less, nothing more. And the rest? The rest was up for later.

“Your majesty has different plans?”

Anduin couldn't suppress a slight smile while glancing up. “As you might have forgotten, Master Shaw, today is Stormwind's start of Hallow's End festivities, and I am expected to be there. To support my citizens.”

“You are going to the official opening ceremony?”

Anduin nodded. “Yes.”

“You'll take the Lion's guards with you, your majesty, won't you?”

The young king didn't lose his smile although his inner alarm bells were suddenly set off by Shaw's lightly thrown remark. “I'm at home, Spymaster. I don't think I am in need of additional protection.”

“It would be a prudent thing to do in these dangerous times, your majesty. With the Horde even showing up in Kul Tiras, you never know.” Shaw noted matter-of-factly and turned. “Then all that's left for me is to wish you a nice evening.”

“Thank you. I am looking forward to it.” Anduin answered in a friendly manner, to not let on his irritation about the spymaster's comments. His eyes followed him walking to the door. “Master Shaw? - Safe journey to you.”

Shaw only nodded. “For the Alliance.”

Yes, Shaw thought while he left, this was a good opportunity for the young king to get out of the political stage for one evening and to spend time with his people, being reminded of what they fought for in this faction's war. Hallow's End had become famous in Stormwind over the years. The whole city would be on its feet and celebrating, enjoying the fantastic decorations, the pumpkin contest, the burning of the wickerman and how the city was illuminated. Yes, it was a good distraction in these dire times. - In addition, it was also a possibility to meet someone, Shaw thought, having noticed the young king's glance at the clock. On purpose? He grinned inwardly. Genn's call for help some days ago was still on his mind and he decided spontaneously to add one of his SI:7 agents to the Lion's guards. As a precaution, of course.

*

STORMWIND CITY

To be outdoors was better. After breathing some crisp air – temperatures had gotten low in Stormwind the past few days -, Anduin felt refreshed, walking from Stormwind Keep towards the Trade District with five of his Lion's guards in tow. Nightly twilight was slowly setting in. This evening – he still didn't know where to put it. Was it good? Was it bad? Something in between? There was an answer not yet possible, that's why he forced himself to put his pending issues and his tiredness to the back of his mind as soon as he walked into the beautiful and festively decorated main city district to do the honors and to announce the winner of the smiling pumpkin's contest. Afterwards, he was invited to one beer of the 'Mysterious Brew' outside of the Gilded Rose by Innkeeper Allison and accepted. The popular inn in the district had positioned wooden tables and chairs in front of its entrance in honor of the day and was well visited. He drank it to relax himself, feeling his inner nervousness resurfacing.

Light, she brought him completely out of his comfort zone, he was all in a fluster. His countless looks at the cathedral's clock and at the sunset showed a lot of it. He ordered another round for his guards, to get them in a good mood, too, knowing nobody could withstand 'king's orders'. After the next three rounds of beer he finally had the chance to allow them to be out of duty, telling them he could find his own way in the city. Genn had shortly talked to him, spotting him there sitting in the middle of his guards as well as surrounded by other citizens, but was preparing for his speech and the burning of the wickerman outside Stormwind City and had left. Anduin was grateful because the brief moment with Genn, away from the noise, allowed him to slip away from his guards and to make his way slowly to the harbor, cautiously paying attention to be seen everywhere, to nod, to smile and to exchange some words with his citizens. He was no longer able to slow down his beating heart and neither the thrill that had taken place inside of him. Since it was Hallow's end, all citizens had glistening eyes and sometimes rosy cheeks, going around with their kids and enjoying the special decoration, the candles and the smiling and loot-filled pumpkins everywhere and Anduin didn't think himself too striking as well.

Yet, there was something else he became worried about.

Anduin who knew his own personal Lion's guards very well – a habit he had made early on to make sure he was surrounded by faces he knew, to protect himself from unpleasant surprises and possible spies - had realized somewhere in between sitting outside the 'Gilded Rose' that there was one person among the five whose voice he couldn't associate with a name immediately. To not seem to be suspicious he just observed discreetly - while ordering the drinks - what the young guard did and rightly so, he did not sip a single time, he just pretended to do so. Anduin groaned inwardly and knew something was not right. So he paid a lot of attention to make sure he was not followed after leaving his guards. Somehow, when he talked to his citizens, there was always a Lion's guard uniform to be seen somewhere in the crowd. Who was it? Was the guard a spy? Wearing the official uniform, it had to be one of Shaw's people – but why? Why did his own spymaster send someone after him without telling him? Did a threat exist he didn't know of? Was this  the hidden message behind Shaw's words? He started sweating slightly, fully aware that he  was to meet the enemy of the Alliance and that he couldn't risk to be detected. 

His conscience pricked him. What madness had driven him to meet her again? Yet, he longed for it. He wished for it. To have one last chance to be with her. And he pined for it with all his heart. Not being a king for one evening. Only a young man... who wanted to lay down his adoration for a hauntingly beautiful woman and a fierce warrior at her feet – or whatever  _her_ plans for this evening were. 

Unfortunately, he was easily recognizable in his royal outfit but there was no possibility to change it. The only solution left for him was to lead Shaw's spy on a wrong track. Since he was used to being around crowds, using the busy streets of Stormwind would be his best chance to vanish into thin air. It wasn't easy, and much to his frustration sunset had long set in when he spotted his opportunity, kneeling down next to a child and its smiling pumpkin on a corner of one of the houses in the Cathedral District. Surrounded by a lot of people, he stooped and turned unnoticed around the next corner. Clinging to the shadows, he made sure three times that nobody was behind him. As a result, he was breathless when he hurried down the stairs to the harbor like a haunted ghost. This was not his idea of fun. At last, and due to the fog that slowly ascended from the sea towards the city, he was just a blurred shape when he ran to the end of the docks -

And crashed into Sylvanas.

“You are late. - Are you ready, Wrynn?”

“I am. My apologies.”

A whistle and the bat came and crouched down so she could mount. Then, the Warchief extended her hand out to the young king to help him up and he took it and mounted, slipping behind her when the bat immediately took them into the sky with a powerful flapping of its wings, out of sight, climbing the heights through the dense fog off shore.

Leaving the ground and all of its pull and drag behind helped Anduin to relax. Enjoying the simplicity of looking down and the wonderful view of the calm blue sea, now that they had left the coast and were over open water which broadened like a panorama under the bright moon light.

Anduin let out a shout of delight, confusing Sylvanas, who had expected everything but this from the young king, for she didn't know in what kind of rush he had made it to their meeting point. Two arms sneaked around her waist and held onto and his jaw came to lean on her shoulder, looking beside her towards the horizon. His warmth was seeping through her and made her aware again of how cold she was. Hell, she was looking forward to have him alone for herself, his intimate gesture promising so much more. She had to admit he felt good, leaning against her, the way they were pressed together in a comfortable way, fitting together surprisingly well. Almost perfect. She wasn't blind to the fact that he put a high degree of trust in her, sharing this uncharted evening with her.

Anduin – besides being completely enthralled and aroused by their closeness – felt free high in the air. Free to forget about his duties which lost their importance, here, above, which mattered less and less to him at the moment for these hours they shared. He didn't mind sitting behind her, letting her have the reins – he had been forced too early to take the reins and never been growing fond of it, yet it was a necessity he owned his father. It was his heritage to take and his people to lead and to protect them.

He was happy to be allowed to have Sylvanas in his arms right now. To enjoy the ride on the bat with her, letting his feelings flow through him, the low echo of desire that was slowly pooling inside of him, from having her body so close, the tension rising and therefore the craving for more intimacy. How could he have missed it, so far? There had been nobody who had made him want to come close, to even try, though. He'd been satisfied with how things were. By the Light, she had gotten through to him when he hadn't paid attention. He snuggled closer to her again, liking the soft curves he could feel pressed to him. He took it all in, his whole kaleidoscope of emotions for her.

“Where do you take us?” He finally asked.

Sylvanas smirked. “Where's your trust, Wrynn?”

Her response drew a chuckle from him. “Meant to rebuild?”

Her snort was answer enough. The bat continued to glide smoothly through the air – it was as comfortable as flying on a gryphon - and Anduin leaned his head on her shoulder. He closed his eyes for a while, simply soaking the nearness of her up and falling asleep along the way, exhausted and dead tired as he was.

*

VOL'DUN

Sylvanas had not told Anduin where she wanted to take him not to spoil his surprise. And he had accepted her secrecy and had not continued to ask. Besides, he had been awfully quiet during the flight. But when the climate around them changed, growing warm, she felt that he suddenly stirred behind her.

Slowly, Anduin opened his eyes again, realized the change in the air and lifted his head. Amazed and feeling a bit recovered from the nap, he saw where she had taken him. They flew along a coast and the moonlight was painting it in a magical color. The white sands, the ruins – he recognized all of that and he was pleasantly surprised.

“You take us to Vol'dun?”

“Yes.”

Silence followed for the last part of the flight, although it didn't take long. Anduin could see where she directed the bat and wanted them to get down. He was pretty sure it was the place where she had caught him off guard taking a bath in the waves, a while ago.

After they landed graciously, the bat almost soundless, they dismounted. Anduin smiled at Sylvanas, suddenly as nervous as he had been around her when they first met before the Gathering. This was not what he had expected. Perhaps not repeating a tavern's meeting, but something like taking a walk around a place that was important to her? Over there, in the Eastern Kingdoms, since she had insisted of picking him up in Stormwind? Definitely not here.

Her only reaction was a smirk. “A Wrynn made speechless again?”

“A bit.”

“You didn't think of the Arathi Highlands, did you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I thought you would take me to some other place in the Eastern Kingdoms. Some place... that mattered to you.”

“Did Ratchet matter to you?”

Anduin smiled again. “I was always curious of the Goblin's famous place over there in Kalimdor. I knew for sure there were no spies, at least to my recent knowledge. That's why I suggested it.”

“I see.” Sylvanas turned towards the beach. “I came here...”

“Searching for me?” Anduin finished her sentence and stepped beside her.

Her mouth twitched when she darted a glance at him. “It was worth it.”

Anduin blushed, remembering well how startled he had been with her stunt of standing suddenly in front of him, but returned her look. Yet, why Vol'dun?

“You want to take a bath?”

Anduin grinned, not averting his gaze. He sweated a bit, starting to feel the radiating heat from her glance and from a hot day in the desert creeping into his too warm clothes. “I would very much like to... but what about you?”

The long, elegant eyebrows rose with another twitch at her mouth. “ _I_ just like to watch.”

His blush deepened, understanding immediately her intent. And he found himself taking his clothes off, following her wish. She knew what he looked like underneath already, so he just stripped in front of her eyes. His royal overcoat, the belt, the shirt, the trousers and the boots fell to the ground. The warm air and the equally warm breeze felt good on his naked skin. A sort of freedom arose in him by realizing they were here all alone. Had she brought him here to emphasize that this evening was just about the  _two_ of them? - At least that was his wish to interpret her choice of location. 

His happiness kicked in. “You may have to get me out of the water.”

“Let's see.” A challenging grin was on her lips. 

And then, Anduin was running, jumping into the waves, diving. Haunting questions were drained by the nice temperature of the sea going through him. It felt wonderful. Also, being completely naked and allowed to act carefree.

Sylvanas observed him fascinated. His joy, his excitement, she could almost touch upon them, and it didn't take long that keeping tabs on him diving through the waves started to stir something in her - something she was still amazed about. Something she welcomed tonight. Something she had even waited for?  _Because Anduin let her see the feelings for she could only brush them_ .

It made her hungry to watch. He had addressed a side in her she still wondered about. Simply in being with the young king, she was reminded of the occasion to feel in different ways when she bathed in his obvious pleasure. And she would get hers, in another form, if...  _if_ it all worked out like she had dared imagine for three days and nights. The pleasure she starved for, too, made patience not her strongest suit tonight, but following his moves was sweetening her wait. A feast for her eyes. She watched him with the thrill of the hunter who was certain of getting its prey at the right time.  _He_ ... was hers. Tonight.

As was to be expected, it didn't take too long when he finally returned from the water, smiling and chilled but also a bit weary, she could see it in his slower movements. That he was tired, she had realized on the bat, when he clung to her, saying no word, keeping very quiet which left the only conclusion that he was asleep. Now he came to stop in front of her some yards away as if he wasn't sure of what happened now, taking her in, the way she didn't stand next to but in front of his clothes. Her red eyes glowing. And smirking, because her plans would wake him up, she was certain.

“So, Wrynn. You had your fun.”

Bright blue eyes focused on her. “You got what you wanted, too? Having seen enough?”

“Not all, boy-king.” 

“Not... all?” His heart skipped a beat. He stared at her.

“Still hours to have _you_ to my conditions.”

“I...” Anduin, although a bit cooled down from the bath in the waves, blushed again and was searching for words. Since his clothes were out of his reach - on purpose, he now assumed - the feeling that there was quite another intention here strengthened. Suddenly the air was heavy with possibility. He turned serious.

“Sylvanas - _why_ did you bring me here?” 

His openness both struck and disarmed her. The young king didn't hold back when he was with her – and for this, she came to adore him. He spoke to her in a way she had never thought she could be in need of. Perhaps it was the living part in her. A part to which Vereesa had spoken, too, when the three sisters met at Windrunner Spire. The part that hadn't gone dead yet with Arthas' piercing her and with gaining her body back. Nevertheless, it was a part she still struggled with, because being undead had its advantage, she had recognized it over the time. On the other hand it allowed her to enjoy this, with Anduin. In this regard, she didn't fool herself anymore.

“Because... you looked happy when I watched you, here.” Her mouth twitched slightly. “I know you are a starry-eyed dreamer, boy-king.”

“I am. Which makes it the more contradictory, what _you_ are doing.”

“No time for questions, Wrynn. Let actions speak, instead!”

“Actions?” Anduin's heart skipped another beat. “Is this a proposal...”

“For more?” She started to shimmy towards him, eyeing him, coming slowly to a halt when their bodies were close enough that he could feel something powerful between them. And just short of touching him.

“Why?” His voice was husky.

“Because I think you crave the same I do.”

“Didn't you tell me once that we will only end on a battlefield?”

She snorted. “I'd prefer to say there are different kinds of battlefields, Wrynn. And on this one,  _I_ intend to win. Tonight.”

“I....” He was speechless, for a moment. By the Light, how embarrassing this moment was for him – to confess! – yet, he wanted to own up to her. “I have no experience, Sylvanas.”

“I know. I'll teach you.”

“You'll teach me?” 

“Didn't you pay me the compliment of being good at it?” 

He blushed but was pleasantly surprised once more that she remembered their talk in the Broken Keel Tavern.

To bridge their distance, Sylvanas touched Anduin cautiously, as if it was a first time for her, too. Cold hands - without gauntlets because she wanted to feel him underneath her fingertips - tracing first his jawline before tangling in his wet blonde hair, gliding down his throat, gliding along his wet and hot skin and over his shoulders to the taut chest, the flat stomach, just getting high from watching his reaction and his blue eyes, the mirror of his soul.  _Finally_ , she had her most precious prey in her hands. In one move, she pressed against him, her hand resting firmly on his back. She felt his hard-on and smirked. “I see I still have that effect on you.”

“By the Light, you have.” Anduin admitted, allowing himself to show her how much he was turned on by her, naked as he already was. He was intoxicated and bewitched, if not drunken from the magic moment. Was _he_ allowed to have that? “Sylvanas...”

“You are gorgeous, boy-king.” She whispered in his ear and her compliment deepened his blush.

Although something else was on his tongue he couldn't resist teasing her. “I was told I should not fish for compliments from the warchief.”

He groaned when she slid her hands down his back to his bare ass, sending shivers over his skin. The way she pulled him tighter against herself letting him feel she was craving for more, too. Then her cold lips were on his, and his arms wrapped themselves around her while he opened his mouth to hers. Anduin was lost. The whole world around him started twisting. Her cold tongue was slipping into his warm mouth, beginning with barely a touch. He waited until her tongue touched his, until she delved deeper into the kiss only to answer her intimate tongue play. And the play seemed not only to send shots of excitement through him but to her, too, when he realized her short tremble in his arms. She explored his mouth and nipped at his lower lip with sharp teeth only to caress it with both her lips in the following moment, tempting another groan out of him. Light, she ignited a fire in him he didn't know how to extinguish anymore.

Sylvanas wanted to eat him up when she heard his groan, full of relish, coming from deep inside, yet, she ended the kiss and stepped back, leaving him panting again.  _She_ wanted more. And she wanted it now.

“No need to fish when you found out how to pleasure me.” She replied dryly and surprised him completely as she pushed him back at the very next moment. His knees that already got weak, gave in easily. He fell down on to the soft warm sand and Sylvanas climbed quickly on top of him, pinning him to the ground while diving over his naked body. Anduin gasped under her. 

Having her so close made all his dreams come true. Her action made it pretty clear now that she wanted to take him to other levels than he had ever known. - Yet, there was one urge in him that drove him to intervene, capturing her wrists to get to know it. Their eyes met, hers glowing a deep red, his blue ones questioning, when she straightened up, straddled him and sat right on his hard-on. Light it felt so good... he could hardly breathe. Her raised eyebrows indicated nevertheless she was waiting. He gathered his courage to talk before he was about to give himself up to her.

“I need to know...” Anduin cursed himself but he couldn't let go before he got an answer to how the situation turned out – including the knowledge that this evening could be their last together - to protect himself. Another sensuous groan escaped him when she moved slightly over his erection again, knowing exactly how to turn him on.

“You try my patience dangerously _hard_ , Wrynn. Know... what?”

“I'll be yours, Sylvanas. I want to...” While shivering he found the strength to look her in the eyes. “Tell me, honestly, if this is our only night – or if there are more to come.”

Silence followed and she bestowed a long glance on him. It was a long moment where Anduin's world stood still, his sole concentration on her, sitting upon him, in full armor. He could feel the coarsened leather on his naked skin and the spiky metal of her leg armor on each of his sides. His hands had come to rest on her thighs and he simply waited for her answer, realizing that his will to resist - until he got an answer - was dwindling.

In the end, she spoke. “What do you expect from me?”

“Nothing that you don't want to give, Sylvanas.” Anduin answered. “But for once - don't keep me in the dark with your intentions.”

“Deflowering you?”

He smirked, like her, but shook his head. “You have made your intent clear but that's not what I meant.”

“You see, boy-king,” Sylvanas was struggling for words, “it is a first time for me, too.” Piercing red eyes that lingered on him the whole time signaled Anduin that the Warchief of the Horde wasn't as calm as she wanted to be. Which was why her voice sharpened. “Hell, Wrynn, you kissed me. _You_ came to me in the Stockades.”

“I know.” Anduin said. “But I just asked you a simple question, Sylvanas.” 

“You are going to take this to a personal level, aren't you, boy-king.”

“Aren't you a clever Banshee Queen.” 

Upon recognizing his still serious look, the red eyes glowed more. “I want you, Wrynn. - You came to me like... Arthas. You. And your stubbornness.” She rolled her eyes but she saw that he listened. “I just risk here the same as you. And in the worst case, _I_ have eternity to think about it.”

Her dramatic answer made him smile. “ _I_ don't want to damn you.”

She leaned forward to him, her hands now left and right beside his head. “Then let's just see... if we are compatible.”

“You promise me nothing, yet you want it all.” Anduin's summary was straightforward and blunt as was his gaze.

She smirked. “Aren't you a clever boy-king.”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Stop calling me boy-king.”

“I can call you little lion but I had the impression you didn't like it.”

“I don't like the _way_ you say it. - You use it to insult me.” He clarified.

“Hmmm...,” she smirked again, liking their conversation somehow, “not so much choice with my name. Poor boy.”

He still looked up to her and was partly smiling – knowing she was teasing him -, partly frowning. “Anduin.” He pleaded. “It's just Anduin. - To be on a first name basis.”

She leaned forward, just a touch away from his lips. “To be on a first name basis with me, you need to be a man, little lion,” she grinned broadly and raised her eyebrows, “let's see what I can do about that, making you 'manduin' like the faction's gossip is naming you.”

“You listen to gossip about me?”

She tilted her head. “Know your enemy, Wrynn?”

“Am I, still, one?”

His retort made her mouth twitch. “Will you shut up, now?”

Since he didn't have an answer ready his eyes followed her every moment when she started, unbendingly, to remove her armor piece by piece and let him watch. First, she pulled her impressive bow and the quiver with the arrows over her head and placed them carefully next to her in the sand. Then, she loosened the silver-purple shoulder pauldrons with the skulls and feathers and dropped them. The bracers came next and with them her leather armguards. She also got rid of her cloak with the result that her silver-blonde hair fell free down her shoulders and unveiled her long elven ears. Followed by a metallic clang, her neck was now free, too. Anduin held his breath. In one elegant movement she stood above him and continued with the leg armor. The soft leather boots. The legchains. At last, the leather corset with the metal breastplates laid on top of her clothes.

“You. Look. Stunning.” Anduin's voice was husky and his heart slammed against his chest when he looked at her naked, pale blue-white colored skin underlining her 'hauntingly beautiful' appearance in the moonlight. He took Sylvanas' slender and graceful elven figure in, adoring her female curves. Beyond that, a part of him gradually noticed that it was perhaps his greatest gift that she _trusted_ him enough to strip stark-naked in front of him. 

When she returned down to him, red eyes focused on his blue ones, smirking, she slid up his body bit by bit. Teasing. Moreover, savoring. Cold skin on hot skin, overwhelming him by the passion he felt at her touching him this way. In a moment he was catapulted from watching to burning.  _This_ was more than he could endure. Anduin was shaking, strings of desires playing through him, having him strongly in their grip, still stunned that  _she_ chose to come close to him. And he wanted to let her know it.

“You make me feel -” Anduin gasped, “ Light, I yearn for you, Sylvanas,” he moaned, moving slightly to fit their bodies together because keeping still made him crazy, “tell me what to do.”

“Not much for your first time. Let me.”

He wasn't really content with her answer, so he was doing the only thing he knew: he kissed her while he took her head in both of his hands. It felt so incredibly good to have her whole weight on him, her coldness taking up the warmth of his body as if the undead skin could remember how it once had been. His length, hard from desire, pressed against her flat belly and he could feel her breasts and her nipples, tightly, without the armor as a barrier between them. It wasn't that he hadn't found pleasure in his own body from time to time but having her naked on him was an exhilarating new experience. Scorching heat hunted through him, one he had not dared imagine in his head since they had danced together so his kiss became fierce and rough, wanting more, and she matched him, grazing teeth, tongues dueling, pressure and demand, with no yielding and no softness. Their power was for a moment balanced but back in _her_ hand when she sneaked one between their pressed bodies, lifted herself a bit and let it crawl slowly to his erect length, enveloping it, making him moan into their kiss when her thumb traced his tip and she was beginning to stroke him up and down, gradually, seductively. 

“Sylvanas... I...” Anduin trembled and he had to breathe to keep from embarrassing himself. 

“I'm here.” She whispered and stopped their passionate kiss. “Stay strong for me a bit longer, boy-king.”

His eyes met hers, completely flushed. “You...”

She took his hands from her face away, laid them on her thighs and came to sit upright. Since Anduin's whole body still tingled from their closeness before, he was almost relieved when she let go of him shortly and turned to her armor that laid beside them. He took the opportunity of enjoying the beautiful sight of her once more, naked, her paleness lightly shimmering in the moonlight. Then, he closed his eyes and was seeking diversion with counting from one to ten – only to be interrupted by the return of her cold hand. While it was a delight that her palm was wet with an oily fluid to ease the touch, it was almost too much to withstand that she was massaging his length from tip to shaft and back with it. He couldn't hold back his ragged breaths and moans and fought for his stamina when she rubbed her thumb lightly against the sensitive head of his hard-on again, spreading the moisture around in a delicious circle. Light, she tortured him. He held his breath once more, tensed, yet her tormenting hand was suddenly away and he could feel her move and speak to him in a low echo of her voice: “Look at me.”

Opening his eyes, he saw  _her_ lowering herself on his erection, cautious, slow-moving, saw her show something akin to feelings, too, the way she suddenly threw her head back, her hair falling down her back, her beautiful body bent backwards in a line like her bow, presenting her perfectly modeled breasts, her cold hands clinging to his chest – and another shiver went through his whole body when he realized they were intimate. Joined  _together_ . He had always dreamt of this, since their first dance, but dreams could not have prepared him for how the reality felt - tightness. Friction. A completely new composition of feelings, enveloping his length, the tip thrusting against resistance in her that gave way and made place for him. Anduin gasped and clenched his fists, overcome. The strangely echoing tone of Sylvanas' voice sounded completely different as she moaned, touched by a short brush of intimacy. “I had forgotten... how it is...” 

It all shook him to the core when she started to glide up and down, intensifying the tension, the emotions, the thrills. Giving him sexual pleasure he hadn't known before. His hands sank in the warm sand to hold on to something, to be able to stand this because the friction was close to unbearable. Wave after wave amplified this pure base of lust he felt with every single one of her movements. Anduin couldn't stop himself from groaning over and over, loud. His length grew harder, thicker and he sensed the edge close again, fighting to hold himself back. He wanted to wait for a signal from her, wanted to stay strong for her and when nothing came he tried hard to concentrate on his surroundings to give her and him more time. He looked at the stars in the dark sky above them. He listened to the gentle waves of the sea lapping. He took the smell of the perfume from her hands in, coming from the oily fluid. It was a bit flowery and a bit spicy, but he liked both. He realized her cold hands, pressed on his chest and was aware Sylvanas was  _here_ , with him. The certainty of it made him almost brush the edge again and he worked hard for his composure, slightly lifting her riding him from the ground to soften the thrusts. 

Her immediate reaction was to turn towards him, slowing down her rhythm, a light twitch at her mouth, seeing the turmoil in his wide opened eyes. Of course the young king wasn't one to let go easily. Knowing him to be composed and always a master of not showing emotions although he had so many, Sylvanas recognized his fight quite well. And it wasn't that she didn't know this battle herself, too, which made a smile grace her lips, seeing he was on the edge at an early stage. Her first hesitation gave way to resolution.

“Give in to me, Anduin.”

She put her right hand under his head and lifted his face closer towards her while the other hand came to rest on the warm sand to support her, still bent over him – and kissed him with her open mouth in a very sensual way, wanting to transfer what his reactions started to stir in her. It was seemingly the last push to Anduin's walls that toppled down. Time seemed to stop. Not only had she called him by his first name – which had sent more shivers through him – but also kissed him in a way like never before. He was dragged along by his own climax.

“Light, Sylvanas...” Anduin groaned, wanting to say more but instead going utterly still.

He didn't know how beautiful he looked like, his head resting in her hand, the spine bent, his body tensing - completely in  _her_ power - the young taut and pale skin glistening with a fine sheen, painting the strained muscles beneath her in a game of glitter when he orgasmed, eyes open, widened, the face's ethereal expression carried away, the hands buried in the sand. Sylvanas found herself stunned with this rare sight, Anduin making her the present of really giving in to  _her_ . Looking back, had she ever watched? Hadn't she been too invested in chasing her own pleasure, to dominate? The feeling of power Anduin gave her, to let her see him, to be able to address this living side in her which was content now by just watching what it felt like was more than she could endure. Why had her being undead suddenly changed this point of view? Sylvanas directed her look towards the starry sky to stop herself from cursing Anduin for waking up her inquisitive nature for life again. 

In a flash, she could feel the familiar rage and hatred in her simmering. With turning back to him, she let his head sink down on the warm sand bed, so she could look down on him, trying to cool her growing anger. The position also left their bodies intertwined, holding them still together, him beneath her. She stared into those vivid eyes of his, full of emotions, the only part of him he was never holding back with. Now, had  _she_ lured him out of his shell or had  _he_ managed to lure her out of hers?

Anduin's heartbeat was slowing down and he was for the first time able to take in his surroundings again, coming down from an intense orgasm. Close to the emotional peak of the Light answering his call yet completely different in its intensity of feelings. His bright blue eyes, slightly darker now, focused back on Sylvanas and looked in awe. He said nothing. His gaze dwelled upon her, his eyebrows slightly drawn. After a long moment, one of his hands came up very slowly, as if he wasn't sure how to transcribe the intimate moment but his longing to do so was obvious, touching her marks under her eyes looking like tear stains while tears stung his eyes. He saw that her first impulse was to flinch back – suddenly aware of the intimacy of the situation as he was and how the moment drew her in, like him, to feel closer towards each other? – therefore he held her gently back, coming up to her on the same eye-level.

“Wait.” He said, still a bit breathless, and contrary to her intention, she paused. He cleared his throat. “Is this... what it feels like for you, too?”

She had to smirk at his remark. Just a twitch on the corners of her mouth, but he had seen it, smiling back at her, his voice husky. “Not now, I realized, but... I want to make you feel the same. Show me.”

His simple, but impressive words caught her. The want to balance their pleasure and the truthfulness that were behind and held her in place against her will. What was it about him that made her always willing to give in? As if she hadn't lost her whole life already while only wanting to defend her home. Sylvanas turned her head to the side. As if she hadn't lost all to  _another_ young man. Was the same to be repeated now? 

Anduin interrupted her train of thought - he must've sensed the darkness she was slipping in - because her face, showing shadows, was softly moved back to the moonlight. Those blue eyes, solely focused on her. Sylvanas wasn't blind to the fact either that such a kind and gentle soul was turning towards her, she who had ironically the power to destroy it. Yet, this one... she feared to slowly lose the power to influence the action of her decision in the right moment. Hell, she had been content with staying in the darkness. Searched for it. Drowned in it. Embraced it, even. But after Anduin's touch of life? Of warmth? The rage and the hate at him that he forced her to confront  _such_ things wasn't gone, although she had arranged with a lot of things. How could life be so cruel to her when she had given all for it? 

She wanted to get up, out of this intimacy, but determined hands on her wrists stopped her. Anduin's voice changed to the one he used as a king. “If you thought of doing this to me and leave me be, you are completely mistaken, Warchief.”

Sylvanas didn't react at first because she was still deeply troubled. Hell, if she didn't know better she would say she was at her lowest point ever. Where was the once proud Banshee Queen? What had transpired that made her all of a sudden so vulnerable? Perhaps she should leave, Anduin's influence on her inner balance had already grown too big. What had gotten into her to let him have his pleasure, yet, she had taken herself back? She was so used to take what  _she_ wanted so why the hell had he made her hesitate? The fear to discover that being undead didn't mean to be immune against other's feelings anymore? The abrupt fear she could not match  _his_ feelings? And the fear once she set the ball rolling she couldn't quit wanting it? She cursed at herself. What did the boy-king do to her? There was nothing she had been ever frightened of since she was made a Banshee, yet, these moments were untested waters for her. The memory of when she had heard from Vereesa's betrayal was present: that she felt stabbed into her heart and it had been a warning that she was no longer made for feelings such as hope, or love, or trust, or joy. These things were for the living; these things were for the weak. In the end, they would slip through her fingers, trickling away and she would be left alone. Again, and always. 

Anduin who had watched her shook his head. The red eyes were not directed at him but at a point in the horizon. What was she thinking of? What had happened that she was slipping from his grasp? After she had given him such an intense height, she was hitting rock bottom? He voiced his thoughts, demanding her attention. “Sylvanas? - Given how little time we both have, I don't want to share you with your brooding time. There are enough nights in the throne room for you.”

She had heard his forcing tone, but ignored it, the shadows over her face darkening, her eyes going from a low red to a signal red intensity.

He had to do something, still not knowing the reason for her falling in such a dark mood. Passionate words tumbled out of his mouth. “It was my first time, Sylvanas...”

_That_ was the key that pulled her back, reaching her ears. Her voice turned towards the usual abrasiveness when she snapped at him: “It is kind of a first time for me, too, little lion, although  _you_ don't want to believe me. - Doesn't your precious Light tell you if someone is lying?”

“I'll know,” he said simply, taken aback by her harsh reaction but otherwise glad that he had gotten an answer. And he absolutely wanted to get her out of the darkness she was still in, so he continued the topic. “Show me how to please _you_. I want to.”

“Boy-king.” She chided him. “I came here to seduce you. Not the opposite.”

Anduin watched her with confusion, surprised about her hint of honesty. “Why? Is it because you are...”

“... undead, little lion?”

There. Used as an insult again. He just observed her, remaining calm. “That's not the point here and you know it, Lady Windrunner.”

“Should I speak of what the point is? That I am way older than you?”

Anduin warded her off, rolling his eyes. “This litany is getting old.”

She shook her head, sneering. “You are a stubborn prat, that's it.”

“It's not the first time you call me that, but I'm not convinced.”

“Another reality you simply won't accept.”

“Another?”

“Looking truth in the eye.”

He gritted his teeth. “Is there an unwritten forsaken rule I don't know of either? You can't touch this because of human potential...?”

Her scoff should've sounded much more serious, but every time he purposely missed her point, she felt he already knew her better than she ever wanted him to.

And this was the moment Anduin acted, tired of getting into a fight again, his plan of switching positions giving him the chance to be in control of her not to slip away from him. In one move, he stood up, carrying her with him – and Light, didn't feel this position exciting, too – and noticed: “Seeing this discussion lasting, may I suggest we change to a more comfortable and soft support? I like sand, but not everywhere – and my clothes are just over there.”

Sylvanas, completely surprised by his move and yanked out of her brooding, couldn't hinder herself laughing, as dry and cackling as it sounded, for one human was brave enough not only to want to satisfy her but willing to tear down her walls of isolating herself.

When he had lied her down, pinning her under him in a cautious way so she could not leave – she was conscious of it but let it happen -  he kissed her. And it wasn't that she couldn't see he was enjoying it, the way his hands tangled in her hair and his fingertips teased her long ears, no, it was that she realized that he succeeded in stirring something in her, having his excellent shaped body on her which made her moan. Resisting him wasn't that easy anymore. Warmth seeping through her, reminding her of her living part. Additionally, she was pressed down by his weight which she liked a lot. 

“Talk to me, Sylvanas.” Anduin proposed, gazing into her eyes. “Help me understand your point of being undead. First time sex with someone living? Why should I not be able to lead you where you already took me?” 

She felt the touch of something foreign, unsettling, with him being a human who insisted on wanting to know more of her. Was that why she answered his question? Why she had no desire to offer falsehood?

“I wanted...,” she hesitated first, but forced herself to continue, “hell, I tried, little lion, but it went completely wrong. Which is why I stopped.” She shook her head, the words coming slowly, as if she had to search for them. “ _You_ made me believe in it again...” Too late she realized what she had just said.

His smile, the one she so often wondered if it was really directed at her, turned almost mischievous. “Is this your way of telling me I may dare to hope for another night with you when  _we_ are successful?” 

“I haven't given my consent yet. Let's see how _you_ perform.” She said with mock astonishment.

“I'm willing to take that challenge.”

Bright blue eyes met glowing re d ones, but he was still smiling, drawing her attention to another subject. “You know what they say about Hallow's end? It was believed to be a time when the barrier between the living and the dead was thin, and those who had passed on could be sensed by those still alive.”

“I know what Hallow's End stands for, Anduin.” Sylvanas replied dryly. “In fact, it marks the day the group of undead, who would later be known as the Forsaken, broke free of...,” she paused shortly, “free of the Lich King's dominance and once again regained their free will. We celebrate this occasion by setting fire to a wickerman after a short speech from me and we smear ashes across our faces.”

“I'm glad you stayed away from smearing ashes across the face.” He blushed once more. “You are beautiful just the way you are.”

There was one of her smirks he knew so well back. “Trying compliments again, boy-king?”

Anduin's smile stayed on, and it was now one of those smiles that had often shot through her thoughts. “Initially, I came here to lay my adoration down at your feet and worship you. In fact,” - another quiet laugh reverberated through his body and she noticed each of his moves - “I am starting with worshipping again.”

His fingertips began to trail her shoulder, down her neckline to her round breasts which he had adored from the very beginning but had no chance to touch, yet. He cupped them lightly, his thumbs rubbing softly back and forth against the nipples and then he bent his head to take one of her breasts into his mouth. The sudden shot of excitement through her shocked Sylvanas, but she arched her back into him with a moan and gripped his hair. She wanted more of his taut skin on her, more of his heat and more of his heart beating faster against her.

“Not bad.” She drawled.

Anduin grinned at her. “Quick learner, then?”

He started to kiss the other breast, enraptured by their perfectly modeled form. He couldn't withstand to bite softly, enjoying the sound of another moan from her. Yet he was still cautious, to not stress her pale transparent skin too much. Besides, he started to like tasting her as well. He licked around the nipples to give her a bit of his scent – because she seemed to him almost odorless - and of his taste, while he picked up their former thread.

“You still hold your speech?”

“I do. - Why?”

Anduin's short laugh had a bit of a wistful touch while he kissed his way down her abdomen, caressing her sides. “One day, I might be able to listen to your voice... Besides, I have heard you have a very charismatic way of doing a speech. And that it is a rare thing.”

She just lifted her head and stared at him and couldn't suppress the apparent question. “I'm way too blunt for your diplomatic nature, so what do you gain by listening to me?”

Anduin's answer was a laughter as clear as a bell, immediately flushed. “ The alluring  version of your voice turns me on.”

Sylvanas was stunned. Whether it was due to his laugh, one she had never heard him laugh before, or whether it was due to his compliment which flattered her this time. And she continued to be stunned when his hand followed the path on her skin further down, that he was  _courageous_ , circling a bit in the pubic hair he found there and then sliding along the way that opened to him, searching for the entrance that she had made him penetrate into, before.

“Is there something left from the oil?”

It was only a flutter on the outside, but she had to laugh inwardly, suddenly confronted with this boldness he obviously hadn't lost. And his question included that he had been perceptive all along. Before. Hell, was  _she_ up for this? Could  _she_ go through... with it, now the moment was here? - She wasn't the Banshee Queen for nothing. Without batting an eye she pushed the little flask in his hand. “Six drops are enough.”

He smiled up at her and for a moment she just looked at him, her eyes glowing a deep red, taking in the open smile that offered something more than the usual... She didn't know what it was and then there was no time because he kissed her, as sensual as she had done and while doing this he managed to open up the flask, only the smell revealing what he was achieving – he was capable of multitasking? - and then she could feel his really oily fingers because he had gotten a bit too much of the liquid, cautious, tender, at her folds, exploring. While still kissing her. Laying on top of her. Making her aware of his presence and of her  _letting_ Anduin take over the reins. A surprising gasp escaped her when not a low, but an impressive echo of flames burned through her and it shook her that way that she couldn't do anything else but hold on. Was it the oil? The way  _he_ touched her and she permitted it? His fingers? She had forgotten how it was to be alive... to be surrendered to feel... and when he finally found the way to her clit, her tremble and her brief tensing up pointing at a sensitive spot, he caressed her and stroked her – who had showed him that? - and she couldn't do other but shake because of the sheer power of sensations that overwhelmed her all of a sudden. Each moan she offered up into their open mouthed kiss went straight to Anduin's groin, and she felt his growing erection on her body but his concentration was still on her.

“Tell me what it feels like for you.” He murmured, appreciating her reaction.

But Sylvanas – feeling less for so long - was too deep into the sea of sensations to reply, felt almost like drowning and she wasn't able to sort through specific ones - she just got a kick out of feeling anything... besides darkness. And Anduin, being empathetic as he always was, saw it on her face, saw it on her trembling and her clenched fists.

He smiled at her again, and there it was back, his power she felt every time he touched her. Nobody had ever smiled at her like that. Never. Nobody had ever held her tenderly, even when she was mean and cruel. He made her doubt herself. Something inside her started to burn again, and it wasn't the always present hate of being cursed of living this way, neither the boiling anger that became so often rage for the chances taken away, nor the emptiness that nothing would ever change despite her tries, nor the unwillingness to accept what had happened forever... Sylvanas was forced to give in, only to tense the next moment again when Anduin slid down her cold body.

Where fingers had touched her inner  lips, his mouth was suddenly there, sucking and tasting. His tongue flicking and teasing her tiny point of intense sensation that seemed to dominate every other feeling. She had known it, but it was so different, this time. She was still too busy sorting through all these sparks he ignited in her. When he added his wet fingers into her oily slickness she arched and was the closest to a Banshee scream as ever, especially when his fingers tried to find out - inside her - where she trembled the most. It was outrageous, inflammatory, rebellious, something was going to break, she had to resist, to hold on... Sylvanas failed in defending herself and shattered, finally. Hit by incredulous amazement, considering the fact she was still undead. 

Anduin's eyes had rested on her for the last part, enjoying to be the reason of Sylvanas' shivers. To lure her out of her shell. She lay still now, low red eyes stared high into the sky and he gave her time to come to terms with herself. He hadn't dared ask her again after her feelings so he was inclined to find out by himself if those were repeatable. He placed his palms on either side of her hips and lifted himself over her body in one smooth motion. His voice was husky when he rested his forehead softly on hers. “I'm yearning for you again, dear Warchief.” And then, he stilled, waiting for her eyes to turn towards him which she did, kissing him. At the same moment he was gliding along the oily cold folds with his erection, not penetrating because he just loved it when he slid against her again and again. Very well aware that he was hopefully teasing them both, driving himself mad but waiting for her to do the final step. Sylvanas wasn't one to wait long. She tilted her hips up and took him inside her, causing them both to shake and moan. She was grateful for the oily fluid which ingredients made his hot thrusts feel smooth inside her cold body, pleasantly surprised that she had preserved the feelings for all its parts. Had they needed to be woken up by  _him?_ Hot flashes in her were pooling with his warm length in her, and every thrust left tiny tingles on her insides. It was more than she had ever thought of, more than she had felt before and she was getting high on them. 

Anduin felt the pure base of lust return with every thrust, pushed by the certainty that she was feeling with him, this time, sharing their mutual desire yet he couldn't hold on for longer. Sylvanas showing him how much she liked his touches and his moves was more than he could bear. He stopped and used his hands on her hips to bring her with him as he rolled onto his back. A questioning look from her followed a teasing smile when he switched their positions and interrupted their intercourse briefly. 

“I asked you once what you like more: top or bottom. - It seems you prefer the latter. You like to surrender, little lion?”

“I enjoy,” Anduin gasped, “I enjoy you being the active part much more right now, Sylvanas.”

“Hmmm. Too early for me again?” Sylvanas mocked him, but it appeared that he was content to let her be the aggressor and it was exciting to have such power again, to see the young king's hands clutching the sand on either side of his body to hold onto something the moment she took up on their previous rhythm and glided up and down on him. Faster, this time. Not waiting. Sylvanas' will was completely overrun by her hunger to catch more of the young king, on the emotions that were written on his face. They boosted her, too. The memory of seeing him naked in the soft light of the moon, against the white sands of the desert of Vol'dun, where he had bathed like a magical being, was present in her head. She had wanted to touch him. To possess him. To conquer him. Hell, he was not bad for his second time, groaning under her. Yet, his moans stopped suddenly. “Please.” The word was shaky, little more than a gasp. He trembled. “Sylvanas – slow down, I can't...” She could see his control slipping, and it caused an answering tremor in her own body. She took his hand and laid it on her pubic area, letting him cup her and put his slippery finger on her sensitized clit. Her passionate command made them both pant. “Rub it, Anduin. Like you did before.” He followed and it took not long when she moaned on top of him, stopped and bent, a shriek escaping her. Anduin gave an almost convulsive shudder and let him take away by his own orgasm. Knowing he was in it with her. And then, a cold body came to lie atop him, clinging to him and Anduin couldn't resist a tender smile, his arms circling around her. 

“Are you alright?” He whispered into her ear.

It took a moment for her to reply. “I am.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because you made me?”

“Absolutely better without the sand.” He teased her.

She grinned. “Humans.”

“What's in the oil?”

“Banshee Queen's secret.”

“I see. - Do all Forsaken use it?”

“Not all are interested in the living side, Anduin.”

“I woke up your living part?”

“Fishing for another compliment?”

“You told me I don't have to once I found out how to pleasure you.”

“You still sound like you fish.”

“Light, Sylvanas, just let me know.”

“If you pleased me?”

“Did I?”

“Let's just say we weren't bad for your second time.”

“Bad? I...” His blue eyes flashed, for a moment. “Perhaps I get better grades serving as a cushion.”

She snorted. “You wanted to change positions, not me.”

He blushed again. “I like you there. Upon me.”

“The High King is giving me the reins?”

Anduin turned serious, for a moment. “You must know, Sylvanas, that it is up to you to decide whether to keep me or cut me loose. - I don't know how this works. I am forced to plan and to have always a solution ready. And I know I repeat myself but I am content,” here he looked at her, “with what you are willing to give to me. Which means our next time is your decision as well.”

She eyed him for some time.

“And it's not that I know you and I have some duties to fulfill.” Anduin added, sighing.

“And that we keep it a secret because we're still enemies?” She finished for him.

“That, too.”

Silence ensued, when Anduin, not wanting to give in to his need for sleep yet, took up on their conversation. “May I propose a third time? Since I got only 'not bad' last time, I would like to rework on my grades.”

“You really _are_ going for another night, boy-king?”

“More working on my reputation of being a teacher's pet.” He grinned back and sprang into action. 

The peaking sun would find  Anduin and Sylvanas content with just lying next to each other and looking into the sky. The bat, having observed the surroundings for most of the night from above, had landed in the meantime, waiting patiently for her Dark Lady's whistle.

There was a question Anduin had wanted to pose the whole night but hadn't found the right moment for it. He tried now. “Can I ask you something?”

“I have no time for questions.”

He thought it better to get to the heart of it. “Why doesn't Nathanos know about the two of us?”

She turned her head to the side, and he could see her red eyes glowing. “The same reason why puppy, for example, doesn't know?”

He just sighed but remained stubborn. “You were a pair. Why aren't you anymore?”

“That's none of your business, so you better shut up.”

At one go, she stood up and reached for her things, beginning to put on her armor, piece by piece.

Anduin straightened up, disillusioned in an instant. “Light, Sylvanas. Just give me something... for a better understanding? I think I deserve an answer for being beaten up...” He stopped himself. No, he had not wanted to touch upon this topic. This intimacy with her made him way too talkative. He put on his clothes as well, scolding himself for ending this night on such a note. There was not much else to do than wait when she whistled for the bat that came immediately and they mounted. One powerful flapping of the wings, and they took into the sky, the moonlight still painting the sands of Vol'dun and the sea into majestic beauty. Like the beauty in front of him, Anduin thought, becoming melancholic, out of reach.

They were silent for a while, but Anduin, who needed her closeness, circled his arms around her, pressed himself against her and laid his head on her shoulder because he was nearly dead with fatigue. Upholding the silence, he was surprised when he heard her voice, suddenly.

“You never told me what he did to you in Dazar'alor, Anduin.”

In one blow, he was wide awake and lifted his head. “Did  _he_ tell you?” Another nagging question he had no answer to. “And why?”

Sylvanas fell silent, for a moment. Did she owe him an answer? It wasn't easy for her to speak the name of her personal champion out loud in the presence of the young king, reminded of him not knowing, too, that she met Anduin again. “You knew what Nathanos was assuming?”

Anduin nodded and named it. “He thought you were assaulted by me in the Stockades.” Then, he sighed. “He was very clear about it, in the end.”

“Why... did you not fight back?”

Anduin flinched back. “Are you really asking me...  _this_ ?”

When the arms around her turned away, she gripped quickly one of his wrists. “Tell me. Anduin?”

“I just know that there's still a part in you... that loves him. I'm a light wielder, Sylvanas, I know my Light is agonizingly painful and destructive to undead. So who am I to hurt him?”

Sylvanas let go of his wrist. Shocked to the core. After a long moment there was no other thing to tell him than: “You won't win this war if you act like this all the time, Anduin.”

His answer was lightly spoken, yet Sylvanas knew there was much more behind it. “Don't you think I know?”

The abrasiveness in her voice was back. “So you already made your peace with your end?”

“My end as a forsaken, you mean?” He countered but wasn't prepared for her attack. 

“Don't you dare think so!” She hurled angrily at him, to add in the same moment without thinking: “What I have in store for you is much worse.”

“See,” Anduin retorted wryly, already too tired for a fight, “no point in pretending that it is what it is. - For a human there can't be nothing worse than ending as an undead. Haunting the living again.”

“You -,” just now, she realized, he  _really_ didn't expect anything else from her than turning him into an undead, “you...!” Words failed her. “Hell, Anduin... - what am I to do with you?”

He kissed her ear. Very tired. “Can you just let me sleep, for a while?”

She sensed his head heavy on her shoulder again, and couldn't withstand another question that bothered her the more the night proceeded, knowing his shields he usually put on to be down. “Why did you really mount my bat, Anduin?”

“To see you.”

“You know I could've murdered you and nobody would've known. You know I'll destroy you, one day.”

He laughed shortly, very tired. “As if I haven't realized.”

“Anduin -”

“Calm down, Sylvanas. I'm not dead, yet.” He snuggled closer to her, his arms around her returned. “And besides, what is the point? I told you once all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. - And I want to spend my time with you. It took me a bit time to realize it.”

“Is that why you asked me if there are other nights like this?”

“Yes. - Yet, as always my answer...” - here, he sighed - “is still outstanding.” He closed his eyes again, comfortable with the leaden tiredness that was on him.

“Will you...?”

“Always.”

“Although you know... in what danger you are in?”

“The same as you are in, too.”

“I am not-”

“You are if you think of your own champion.” He stated calmly.

“I think you are walking back in a much bigger hell than me, dear boy-king. Your puppy, your spymaster and your precious Alliance – they all wait for you to close that death-trap around me.”

She laughed derisively, yet it had a joyful touch to it. “And they all don't know that  _I_ already possess their leader of the pack.”

“No, they don't.” Anduin answered quietly. “And I would like to keep it that way, for the time being.”

“I stay your dirty little secret?”

The need of sleep was heavy on him. “You do.”

She was just about to ask another thing, when he murmured: “I know you don't sleep. But let me? Please.”

“Humans.” Sylvanas sighed but sneaked one arm around him to pull him closer to her. It was a very strange feeling. His head rested on her shoulder again when he murmured: “Can you wake me up before we reach Stormwind? I need to...” The rest was lost because he was already asleep. And Sylvanas stayed motionless, as always alone but not really, this time. She could still feel him, behind her, enjoying his warmth and his calmness and his trust in her while the bat glided smoothly over the sea again, obviously enjoying the flight, too. She tried to concentrate on the right path and not to think about if she was ready for the consequences this night with Anduin would have.

The living part in her craved more time with him. The undead part shook its head.

*

STORMWIND KEEP

When he entered his private quarters as silent as he could, after he had asked Sylvanas to let him dismount on the rooftop of Stormwind Keep – dawn and fog ensuring she was in no apparent danger – he realized that his personal spy had waited for him. Of course.

“Anduin?”

He just looked at her, very tired, worn out, but he smiled. “Still here and alive, Valeera.”

She watched him, and there was... something else beside his usual exhaustion. Something she couldn't grasp at once. A new quiet. Or was it a new experience? It tipped the scales.

“Anduin... you just came back home... _now_?”

“Yes.”

“You met her and you promised me to tell me where!”

“I did. And I am sorry, Valeera, it all happened... too fast.”

“You weren't gone to a tavern again?” 

Anduin went over to the table where his dinner was still untouched and poured both of them a glass of water, giving her one. “No.”

The way he sipped, the way he looked pensively, it was different. What had happened that he...? And then, Valeera knew. In the first rays of the morning sun that came through the fog, she could see him weary, but _radiant_ the way he smiled. “You got close to her.”

“I did.”

“How close?”

“Valeera.” Anduin put his glass back at the table. “Do you ask me as my friend or as my parent?”

“I am sorry, my king.” Valeera was indeed overcome with remorse. “And you are right, it's none of my business. Yet, I asked – because you are like a brother to me, Anduin. I just wanted to know that she didn't harm you.”

“Do I make the impression that she harmed me?”

Valeera grinned. “No. Quite the contrary.” She winked. “She made you happy.”

“Women.” Was all Anduin answered and rolled his eyes, but his smile stayed.

“Hordies are known for doing it good.”

“Valeera,” Anduin blushed, “will you stop, please?” He turned serious. “Just let me – have this.” 

The blood elf turned serious, too, because she felt responsible for the young human. “I don't want you getting hurt, my king. But since she is from the other faction, from the enemy, one of you will get hurt in the process. It is as simple as that.”

Anduin's stare had gone hard. “I know, Valeera.” He shook his head. “ And you know me well enough that I am fully aware of everything that comes along with it. - Including us on a battlefield, vis-à-vis.” The words had slipped unwillingly, yet, Anduin had started to accept the facts since last night, since they became a pair. But he also tried to _not_ deceive himself: they would end on a real battlefield, sooner or later. In this, Sylvanas had been right. And Light, if he was thinking of it, he still didn't know... _how_ it would end.

Valeera had watched him thoroughly, seen the battling emotions on his face and knew that it had the young king bad. If she only knew _who_ it was, with whom he was involved, perhaps she could help him... given his words, the situation seemed desperate but not hopeless. And Anduin was aware of it. But 'battlefield' meant...? She gave voice to her thought. “So she's a warrior?”

“She _is_.” -

The words did not belong to Anduin, but to Areiel who had found her way into the young king's antechamber, too, stepping away from the shadows of one curtain and into the light of the new morning, close to both of them.

“Ladies...” Anduin paled and stepped immediately between the elves, not sure of how to take this, facing first towards his friend and his personal spy to make her understand. One thing was clear: the secrecy was gone. “Valeera, may I introduce...”

Yet, Valeera leaped forward, around him, her dagger immediately drawn. “Are _you_ the one?”

Areiel, very calm, only smirked at Valeera and shook her head. “I would be honored, but no.”

“Areiel?” Anduin turned around and looked surprised at her. “You never said a word of...” 

“Just teasing your elf, my king.”

Valeera had watched both of them, stunned, baffled and curious. Their short, yet very personal conversation implied they knew each other well – the undead elf calling Anduin 'my king' and he tolerating it spoke of a lot of trust! - so, if she, obviously one of the Warchief's dark rangers, wasn't his Horde girl, who was the undead elf, then? A messenger? But _who_ would send a messenger... the truth came to her like lightning.

“Anduin – don't tell me you are...,” Valeera gasped in shock, “you are... involved with the Warchief of the Horde?”

Two faces turned towards her, one blushing, the other one still smirking.

Areiel was the first to speak. “Oh, but he is -”

Anduin turned back towards the undead elf and put a hand on her shoulder. “Will you give me a moment, Areiel?”

Red eyes looked at him, continued smirking and nodded. “Of course, my king.”

Anduin went over to a shocked Valeera who just stood still upon watching them and raised a small smile, almost relieved that he was able to say this out loud. “I am involved with Sylvanas, she is right, Valeera. - I visited the Warchief of the Horde in the Stockades when she was imprisoned after the battle for Lordaeron. _Our_ battle of words, it ignited something. Sparks always flew when we two got together afterwards. A date followed.”

The blood elf stared at him. “It was _her_ you met at the Broken Keel Tavern.”

“Yes.”

“Anduin -” 

“Excuse me for interrupting - it's not that I hadn't a similar talk with the Dark Lady – yet,” here, Areiel stepped towards the still shocked blood elf, “the feelings are mutual so who are we to intervene? Instead, I try to _protect_. As you do, I presume.”

Valeera took the dark ranger for the first time into serious consideration, scrutinizing her from head to toe, sensing that she was an ally, but she still had to come to terms with the news. And she needed some time before she was able to speak. Finally, she relaxed visibly and answered the words of the undead elf. “I do, you presume right. I swore to protect him.”

Areiel nodded towards her. “Then we reach an agreement here, you and I?”

“We do.” Valeera, not one of hesitating once decisions were made, offered her hand, and with no hesitation either, the dark ranger took it.

Anduin, still trying to get along that Valeera knew the truth, too, was, however, too tired to continue the conversation. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that Sylvanas and him had two protectors from now on. Yet, would these two turn his room into a battlefield or into a place to bury the axe? He hoped for the latter and decided to withdraw.

“Ladies, since this is settled, can I leave you now? I need my bed and I have only one hour before duty calls. - You can stay as long as you like. I'm sure you have much to talk about. Good night.”

Two faces turned towards him, smirking knowingly, and he couldn't help himself to roll his eyes when he closed the door behind them and fell into his bed. Groaning inwardly of this all being such a good idea. But smiling while thinking of Sylvanas. And gliding into sleep in seconds, exhausted as he was.

*


	13. echoing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N**  
>  Thank you very much for your wonderful comments, _Ryuujin_ \- you are really sweet! -, _PRAISETHEWALLS_ , _Nevijek_ , _Sthefyz_ , _DMM_ , _shiplordkingjr_ and you, especially, _Francisco+C_ \- and si, looking forward to read you next comment en castellano! - and all you others who left kudos.
> 
> Thank you, _Windcage_ and _Taedae_. I'm glad to have you!
> 
> And without further ado -

*

STORMWIND CITY , THE OLD TOWN

“I lost him in the Cathedral District, spymaster.”

It was late in the evening when a young Lion guard showed up in Shaw's office, the spymaster still in the process of sorting through things before leaving in the early morning.

Shaw, having almost expected something like that, only raised his eyebrows. To be honest, he had only played with the thought of the young king seeing someone and hadn't really taken into account that Anduin would use the opportunity and disappear. Now, he saw himself in a position to confirm Genn's assumptions.

He should've sent one of his best men, not one of his youngest. Well, it was what it was.

“How?” He finally asked.

The young man, obviously nervous, hesitated. “I think he noticed that I was not one of those who are usually on duty. The young king is very careful, spymaster. He knows all guards by name. I dare say he even knows their families.” The respect for his majesty paying such attention towards his bodyguards had seemingly left a deep impression on the young man who had posed as a guard.

“So the job's not done yet,” Shaw stated the obvious fact. He had to blame himself, having neglected how well informed the young king always was as to when and where his personal guards were involved. A thorough analysis wouldn't have left out any detail. 

“Our majesty was very clever, spymaster,” he told him, a sudden smile on the face of Shaw's spy. “He paid for a beer's round, ordered us to drink, and repeated it while talking to us and to the citizens who came by to greet him. Afterward, he said we were off duty. Then he talked to Master Greymane and vanished suddenly. I tracked him multiple times but I guess he detected me somehow. I believe he went to the harbor, but I did a thorough search and found nobody. With the thickening fog, it became very difficult to follow him ―I am very sorry, Master Shaw. Though I can't tell you where he went, I can tell you that he's not back in his private quarters, yet. Still on the go, as we now speak.”

“But _where_ did he go?” Shaw pondered. “Now I'm more than certain he went to meet someone.” He frowned. If Anduin's date was a girl from Stormwind, there was no need to conceal her. He knew all too well how private the young king was  ―he had been so even when he was a teenager, especially in cases where his personal life was concerned ―but why the secrecy? It wasn't as if the High King of the Alliance had anything to hide. Any lady would be honored to be courted by him. 

Was it truly Taelia? Shaw had gotten to know her a little and thought her open and sincere. He knew it was Genn's wish that it was her, but Mathias personally didn't believe it. If the king's girl were Fordragon's daughter, the young, gutsy woman herself wouldn't ask Anduin to stay secret about it. No, it must've been someone else he had agreed to meet with, Shaw was pretty certain. 

Well, he was going to arrive tomorrow in Boralus, wasn't he? He would find out. Or, given time, the next spy  ― who would stay in the shadows and not accompany the young king openly  ― would do so. Besides, Shaw suspected, after having taken the next step in their war campaign, the siege of Dazar'alor, that there wouldn't be much time left for the young king to partake in such distractions anyway.

*

STORMWIND KEEP, the next day

It hadn't been long when the bright rays of sunshine tickled Anduin awake but the happiness and the feelings still lingered as he rose, taking his time to refresh himself in the bathroom. Almost sadly did he let the last remnants of sand go down the water drain while closing his eyes and thinking of Sylvanas. The way she had looked at him yesterday, the way she had tasted, the way she had moaned... his body's response was more than visible so he sighed and changed the water from hot to cold. Shortly after, he sat at the table in his father's study, enjoying the last crumbles of his breakfast. _I'm really starved_ , he thought, smiling and realized that his servants were happy that the young king showed a better appetite today than he had done in the recent weeks.

That was how Genn found Anduin, with a smile on his lips, and the elderly man couldn't resist teasing the young man as he took his place at the table and was served a fresh cup of tea. “Do I get my royal wedding next spring?”

That same moment, Anduin's smile vanished as he glanced back at Genn. It seemed his happy moment didn't last long, unfortunately. “Good morning, Genn.”

Genn's curious look lingered on him, he felt it. “You still look tired, Anduin. - And you didn't answer my question.”

The young man smiled slightly. “Are you here to prepare me for what is to come?”

“You are speaking of the council?" Genn shook his head. "It is time to take matters into our own hands, Anduin. We cannot sit idly by, as I already told you once or twice, while the Horde is left unchecked." He leaned forward a bit, his eyes focused on the young king. "You can't _stall_ forever.”

Anduin's appetite was gone. He sighed. “As if I don't know, Genn, but war is nothing to be trifled with. It is an uncertain thing. ―When this war began, I thought we were fighting for peace. But now we're just... fighting.”

“The question is, Anduin,” Genn turned very serious and vehement, “how much are you willing to risk by stalling a war? To prolong suffering and results? We have a good chance now and I'm certain you are aware of it. Spymaster Shaw, High Commander Wyrmbane, and even the new Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras share the same opinion. Why do you still make a stand against it?”

Anduin leaned forward as well. He was upset but managed to contain himself. "Do not speak to me of prolonged suffering, Genn," he emphasized every word, "I am the last person who watches others suffer willingly!" He took a deep breath. "No. The basic question posed by war is about the powers of endurance and capacity for sacrifice on both sides."

Genn shook his head again. His voice sharpened. “And _we_ both know who's in for the highest percentage of sacrifice and endurance. Open your eyes, my king! We  ― the Alliance  ― have to give the Horde no chance to gain more allies! We have to wreck this crazy bitch of a Warchief! And we have to do it  _now_ .”

There it was, Anduin's inner torment present. In one go, he had been knocked down from dreams to reality. The heaven of yesterday, only hours ago, those moments with her, his first time ―gone. Wasn't this supposed to be the moment when Genn and he sat talking about what it meant to be a man? His chance to ask Genn after his marriage to Mia? He would've loved to tell his father substitute what had happened. Instead, they were talking about battles. It cost Anduin a lot of his inner strength to stay calm, to feel for the Light in him that gave him his leverage back. He had to take Sylvanas out of his thoughts, for now. He had to accept the situation as it was: they were still very much at war.

Genn's interpretation of Anduin's silence was that the young man denied embracing the harsh reality. He knew how much his best friend's son longed for peace, and that he took each loss personally. Since the Worgen didn't want to start a discussion about it, he went for another topic. "You still didn't tell me where you went after Hallow's End festivities."

“I was downtown, enjoying the evening in the middle of my citizens." Anduin's friendly but evasive answer followed immediately.

“All the time? I was looking for you and didn't find you!"

Why did a king need to justify himself every time he did something in private when others didn't have to? Anduin frowned. He was public while acting as king, yes, but why was it so difficult to accept that even a king had the rights to do something in private?

Anduin's silence told as much and made Genn grin. “I know you met her.”

That pulled a reaction from the young man. “Her?”

Genn's grin broadened. “Taelia?” It was a shot in the dark and the Worgen wasn't really counting on a definitive yes, but he would never know if he didn't continue to insist. “You had the guts to ask her out?”

The young king couldn't stop himself from blushing while rolling his eyes. Wasn't it enough that he had to endure the knowing smirks of Valeera and Areiel? Now he had to be embarrassed by his father's best friend as well? He remained silent.

Genn laughed. "Come on, Anduin, there's no need to create a big mystery. You cannot fool me." He winked and couldn't resist teasing the young man further upon watching how quick Anduin's blush deepened. "I can ask her myself, when we arrive in Boralus..."

“Genn, can you please ―”

Genn continued grinning. “No need to hide from me that you have a crush on Taelia. As I said, she is a gutsy lady and a beautiful young woman. You chose well.”

Anduin was close to telling the truth, to telling his father's best friend that it wasn't Taelia, but the sudden fear that his secret was busted after that, made him hesitate. Why did he to need provide answers... if he didn't even know deep down whether Sylvanas wanted to see him again? Why could he simply not seem to be allowed to have one personal thing in his life just for himself? His answer was therefore brief and terse.

“That doesn't concern you, Genn!”

The Worgen's raised eyebrows spoke for themselves. “You know, Anduin, you could've just given me a bit of joy in these times.” He shook his head, obviously at a loss. “I don't understand you. What is all this secrecy for, when you have to announce your official choice one day anyway?” He stood up.

“Genn -” The Worgen turned away from him. Anduin sighed and tried for the last time to make him comprehend. “I would rather keep that to myself... until I can't anymore, Genn. Is this so difficult to understand?”

Genn swiveled around and his words sounded  ― to Anduin's surprise  ― bitter. “You say I am like a father to you, so let me ask you, Anduin: would you have told Varian about _her_? Is it _my_ fault?”

Anduin hadn't been prepared for Genn's severe retort, but he had grown tired of being forced to defend himself, his motives, and his actions.

“Genn,” the young king sighed once more, “how can I explain this to you?” He didn't get further because the Worgen snorted and turned away again.

“Fine. Have your way." He grumbled. “I'll take my leave, my king. There is a lot for me to prepare for the next day. We'll see you in Boralus tomorrow.” And then, he was gone.

Anduin was left behind and another nagging question rose. Would he have told his father about Sylvanas? By the Light, he wasn't sure, because ―

The unadulterated truth was, yesterday evening would have never happened if his father were still alive. The Alliance and the Horde would most certainly not be at war, because Sylvanas had respected his father and had seen an equal warrior in him  ― she had made enough references to it in their former conversations. Such as telling him the truth about the circumstances that had really led to his father's death. To top all this, a pang of humiliation was added.  _Yes, name it_ , he thought desperately. Perhaps she would have never even started this war. Chances were very high that she had started it because it was him sitting on the throne. 

_Him_ , the soft version of his father.

*

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

Sylvanas, in turn, hadn't had an easy beginning to the day either. After she returned to the throne room of Grommash Hold, hoping for some quiet, brooding time to try to sort through the last evening's events and consequences, it didn't take long for Nathanos to appear and bother her with urgent matters. The mood swing she had had before on the bat, first with the young king behind her, then without him, was back. She cursed herself inwardly. If this was to continue from now on...

But the memory of Anduin beneath her, groaning, surrendering to her was still present on her mind. That intimate moment she had shared with him that had turned out quite differently than she had expected, it was still fresh and raw, stunning her with how it differed from former times.

Her clear vision of former times, where had it gone to? She remembered passionate nights with Nathanos, dominating him. Why had she given in to Anduin? Not only did she give him his orgasm first, but she had also adapted to his caresses afterward and his way of exploring her. How could he have been talented enough to give her such a satisfying sexual climax? So different from what she had felt in the past? Sylvanas closed her eyes. She could still feel it, the touch of his tongue, of his hands on her body and it still amazed her to no end ―and she was totally taken aback by her hunger for him.

“My queen?”

Nathanos' voice tore her back from her silent musings. Damn the influence the boy-king had on her! She instantly quivered with rage, fer eyes glowing. It was time to return to reality. At least the anger gave her the usual security and icy calm back.

“My champion. Do you have news?”

Nathanos nodded. “We're still focused on ways to cripple the Alliance,” he reported. “As you might know, my queen, we were successful in raiding the Alliance's Azerite weaponry in Norwington Estate in Tirargarde Sound, a zone of Kul Tiras, but,” he suddenly smirked, hoping to distract the Dark Lady from the bad mood she was obviously caught in again with another casual remark, “we also had to help Gallywix.”

Sylvanas pricked up her long elf's ears. Gallywix? The slimy goblin who was certainly sleeping on piles of money in the bedroom of his Pleasure Palace? Who was a total waste of air? There was a smirk on her face, too. “What was he up to?”

Nathanos snorted with contempt. “He wanted to use his new mech to wreak havoc on the Alliance in Bilgewater Bonanza, but the machine couldn't be calibrated because of Azerite goop around the area.” His red eyes glowed. “Our champion did the dirty job for him. Then, none the wiser, the goblin tried to test the mech in Krazzlefrazz Outpost, in Drustvar, exactly when the gnomes from the Alliance were trying to take over the outpost. And then we had to rescue Gallywix again, because his damned mech ran out of Azerite fuel.”

Sylvanas was just gleeful about it. “I see. You had your hands full with Gallywix's adventures, my champion.”

Nathanos rolled his eyes and carried on. “I also took the liberty of ensuring that Lady Ashvane would stay permanently on our ship, the 'Banshee's Wail', for her own security.”

She nodded, reminded of her short trip to the prison of Tol Dagor. “Kul Tiras has become a rallying point for the Alliance. The return of the vaunted navy has emboldened them. But soon those tide-born curs will pay the price for defying us. For the Horde!”

Nathanos only tilted his head. “What is the next plan, my queen?”

It was good that her champion reminded her of important matters. Sylvanas thought. She would later get a chance to talk to Areiel ―and shouldn't her dark ranger be back by now? ―whom she had ordered to stay positioned in Stormwind to look out for the young king's safe return in the morning. With one impatient move, she switched her thoughts of him off, ignoring even the pull inside her.

*

STORMWIND KEEP

In the early afternoon, Anduin hurried into his private quarters for a short nap. Having the chance to rest for an hour before he was bothered again by his daily duties, he gladly took the opportunity presented. He was dead tired but he also longed for some time to himself. Entering his ante-room and closing the door, he stopped immediately upon recognizing Valeera... at this time?

“Did something happen, Valeera?” The question slipped from him with concern.

The red-armored blood elf who sat at the table stood up and came to stand in front of him. Her face was inscrutable. "I hoped for you to come up here. Can we talk, my king?"

Anduin only rose his eyebrows. “Of course.”

“How can you even... _like_ such a cruel, deceiving and cunning being, Anduin?” Valeera started, hands on her hips, getting angrier and angrier all of a sudden, hitting Anduin completely unprepared. “I mean, look at you. You deserve someone loving. Someone who cherishes what you are doing. Someone who answers the goodness in you. With her, there is only hatred. Madness. Darkness. Who are you to throw yourself at her?”

For a moment, the young king was speechless. He hadn't expected Valeera's silent approval, but something akin to acceptance, perhaps? The way she had shaken hands with Areiel had convinced him she was at least okay with it. And it wasn't that he didn't know that Sylvanas still was, literally speaking, his enemy... the guilt and the sadness Valeera's harsh words triggered in him ate him up. He started to say something but closed his mouth when she carried on.

“I mean, she _was_ a very beautiful woman, still is, if someone is looking for that 'goddess worshipping' in the undead. Her dark allure that one can find captivating I imagine, harbors a private fascination in a twisted mind. She certainly preserved all her seductive sides, all that men are yearning for. Even perhaps the dominating part?”

Anduin failed to speak again. The blood elf's look of reproach spoke for itself. Was she talking about... sexual preferences? Did she imply...? He had no time to dwell upon it because the angry blood elf targeted him once more.

“I thought you stood above the rest! Resisting her! _You_ , Varian's son. Untouchable. Remaining unaffected by such trivial matters! You, who are always a role model for the rest of us, conveying the specific message of peace, that...” Her voice broke, and she stepped away from him.

Anduin cleared his throat. He was good at settling a dispute through arbitration, but this time, he failed. “Just hold on for a moment, Valeera. You lay charges against me for offenses I am not guilty of. You also paint me as a saint, which I am definitely not.”

The blood elf turned back to him. “So far, you have acted like one, dear king. And you should! It is just right  ― you are a priest and we need a pure soul to save us! You try to please everybody, but when do you begin to understand, Anduin, that you can't do so? You are our best chance for peace on Azeroth and the only one for all of us who sit on the fence or just wish for this war to end. So why do you even try to talk to the Warchief of the Horde, let alone  _date_ her?” Agitated, Valeera shook her head and snorted. “Oh yes, I saw you after that date.” She banged her fist on the table next to her, enraged. “Did you know that the Banshee Queen is famous for liking to keep her catches _attached_? And she has got you completely in _her_ clutches.”

Anduin's emotions began to simmer as he rejected her accusations, shocked. “First: I am not one of her catches and she does not have me in her clutches.”

Valeera shook her head in contempt and pointed her finger at him. “Just look at you. Already defending her.”

“Defending her?” Anduin echoed. He had enough of her censuring him. “What is wrong with you, Valeera? How about 'innocent until proven guilty'? How about hearing both parties of the dispute, looking at two sides of one coin? How about giving second chances? Try to take _her_ perspective for one time! What about doing it all wrong and being put into such a situation? Being forced to watch your homeland and all that you wanted to protect die in front of you? Having your soul ripped from your own body? She was a frightened woman, too. And I think she is still one, deep down.”

“You are speaking of what has been done to her. So why is she repeating it?”

“Perhaps because nobody believed her capable of anything but this? Wherever she turned, she experienced hate. Derision. What would that do to a person who's not among the living anymore? ―And who are we to judge? We, born lucky enough to go without such an experience?”

“But she does let you experience such a thing! In being at war with you, Anduin,” she chided him. “Wake up! See it finally as a damned fact, my king, not as an obstacle you can sit out!”

Anduin's eyes had a searing intensity. Valeera's words hit him, especially because she unknowingly took upon Genn's remark this morning. “Why do you think I see war as an obstacle, not as a fact?”

“Because you told me yourself that you _stall_? Which means nothing else than trying to sit it out.”

Anduin took a deep breath. “And here I thought you were on _my_ side. You know what I try, Valeera? I try to win Sylvanas' trust. Nobody has ever bothered to do so. I try to win her over because this may be the only chance of getting her to agree to peace in one way or another. Her mistrust is so deep-rooted it's very hard to reach it, but I try, Valeera. We are... at a beginning. Quite frankly, I don't know where it leads but it is worth a try. As long as I can.”

“So far, all you have are empty hands and are doing nothing more than making excuses for her. She murdered innocent Night Elves, Anduin! Kindred spirits of her own! She blighted her own city not caring for whom was still there! Do you know what else is told about your precious Warchief? Some even say she was responsible for the Wrathgate!”

That Valeera, of all people, using once more the same words and referred to her in the same way as Genn had stung. Yet Anduin remained calm, at least on the outside, to not let another one of his father's best friends see how much the attack hurt him.

“I'm just trying to _understand_ her, Valeera. That's the point here. Perhaps there will be one moment when I can plead with her to stop this. If not, then rest assured, I will see her at the battlefield again.”

Valeera only snorted. “What is there to understand? Your Warchief of the Horde is a Banshee, a ghost in a body! She, therefore, embodies death and there's nothing else she wants except watching us all become undead, serving her, making her win in the end.” She looked at the young king, not able to suppress another sarcastic remark. “And something tells me you have already made your peace with waking up as a Forsaken.”

Anduin declined, his stubbornness coming through. “Not there, yet.”

Valeera threw her hands in the air. “And in the meantime, you go into _war_ as if nothing happened between the two of you? Don't tell me you are as hard-boiled as her.”

She caught him off guard. Despair threatened to break through Anduin, being reminded of war again. Of being forced to give in to the next battle tomorrow, fully knowing that due to the dwindling number of Stormwind soldiers farmers were being called up next. He tried to control his feelings. By the Light, what had he done to be taken into cross-examination again? These elves were driving him crazy!

It took him some time to answer her and when he spoke he realized that a bit of his desperation was oscillating in his voice. "What else can I do? I need time, Valeera, that's why I stall! I can't... make her trust me and turn around the plans she has had in store for such a long time at the same moment."

Valeera threw a pitiful look at him and tried not to sound as keen as a razor. "You know in the pace set, with the Horde and the Alliance fighting against each other, perhaps there won't be much left to make peace with."

Anduin clenched his fists but realized that Valeera spoke mostly out of worry and not out of resentment because the change of her tone had meant something. “I know. Valeera, I know. And yet ―”

“You try to sacrifice yourself for a chance at peace?” The sarcasm was back in her voice.

“It might be the only solution.”

“It would be easier for you to fight her if you weren't taking her into your arms from time to time, my king.”

“Maybe this is my contribution to saving Azeroth.”

The young king's return to a cool demeanor drove the experienced blood elf up the wall again. Why did he choose to keep a blind eye?

“I can tell you _she_ only uses you for her pleasure. That's all!” The elf's voice rose to a higher level. “One day you will realize the truth, but even then it will be too late and I will have to stab you over and over again and burn your body to make sure you are dead! Damn it Anduin, can't you see the bigger picture here?”

Anduin was taken aback with Valeera's outburst, just when he was thinking they were coming to terms. Nevertheless, he shook his head. “Such dramatic words you use, but what for?”

“Anduin, you are a hopeless case.” Her sharp tone didn't change.

“I may be, Valeera, but it is my deepest belief that I can get through to her. Let me! Everybody believes in something.”

“But you're in danger of losing your heart, Anduin. You are way too young to assess the seriousness of the situation!”

Provocatively, the blood elf had chosen to hit the young king repeatedly in frustration of his profound error. She wasn't successful now, she realized it, but she hadn't given up, yet. Having known him well since childhood, watching him grow up as a more than responsible and reasonable young man, she also knew what sexual attraction could do to powerful men who were under constant pressure. She had known his father long enough.

Anduin rolled his eyes. “It's a wonder that I'm still able to stand here in front of you.”

“This is her way to get you on your knees, Anduin! Seducing you. Light, why do I have to be the one hammering this into your male brain?”

Anduin fought for his calmness. He knew Valeera meant well. It wasn't... that he didn't know all her arguments by heart. He had argued with himself a lot. But then, a door opened to him just _yesterday_. A door he had not believed would ever open until Vol'dun.

What had this life to offer anyway besides pain and loneliness? His father was gone. So was his mother, a long time ago. Now, he was responsible for others and that was the only thing that kept him alive next to wielding the Light. Meeting Sylvanas taught him for the first time hope. Hope that there was more behind peace and war, that there was a life worth living for ― may it be short, in his case. He didn't mind. With all he had grown up with, watching how fast life was gone, he just wanted to hold onto happiness with Sylvanas. The way they fought with words and the way they made love, it was overwhelming. Nobody ever had let him get close like that. This _piece_ of happiness was worth fighting for. His will not to give up broke through once more.

“Are you done now, Valeera? Suspecting that the only thing she wants from me is to get me into her bed, so to speak? Me, when she could have so many others?”

“You are the High King of the Alliance.”

Anduin shook his head. “I think you overestimate my worthiness.” He paused for a moment. “Valeera, you've known me long enough. Why is it you who refuses to understand that Sylvanas ―?”

“You know what, Anduin, you have my secrecy,” she interrupted him, growing tired of the young man that was like a brother to her still defending the Horde's Warchief, “but don't ever expect me to understand you.”

“Remember,” Anduin said, his voice still gentle, “you speak to your king.”

Valeera stepped closer to him. "Precisely for this reason. I know _you_ are a soft and kind soul, my king. Don't forget _she_ is a cruel and vengeful sort of being. Please be careful." 

With these words, she left Anduin who watched her go, confused, flushed, on edge  ― suddenly afraid he was blind. Was he the only one to recognize that peace was only possible if given a chance to combine the two factions with the Warchief? Should he try to win this war without looking to the sides? Without risking a step right or left? Was he forced to stand on a battlefield, opposite Sylvanas, and to decide between all that he was taught to believe in  _or_ in his own belief? No, neither decision would save his life. He already knew the outcome. When  _he_ failed, he would fail the entire Alliance.  _And his father_ .

The silence became too powerful. He stood there, desperate and hurt. Who was wrong? Who was right? Anduin bit his lower lip, still too stubborn to let go of his conviction that there was something in Sylvanas that could be swayed. Of which he had caught a glimpse. She had proven it in getting intimate with him. And that only  _this_ would give him a chance for peace. Nothing else. 

Seeing that he wouldn't get an occasion to sleep anyway, all churned up inside, he decided to return to his king's duties and left his private quarters.

*

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

It took too long for Sylvanas' taste to get it all settled, to return to business and the duties as Warchief. In addition, the many times she tried to even start a talk with her Ranger Captain ―who had finally shown up ―she was interrupted by someone else. Her icy calm was fought hard for.

She also felt the sharp eyes of Nathanos on her. After the first time she had tried to speak with Areiel, suddenly the words of the young king were in the back of her mind. The warning to her to act more carefully around her champion ―something which still rankled her, though it had happened due to her dark ranger's urge ―and therefore she was looking for another solution. Trying to catch Areiel in a quiet moment, she found herself constrained to keep all around her busy.

It was infuriating. It was frustrating. It was annoying.

The sudden wish to be rewarded for all her efforts led to the powerful desire to see the young king, to have the chance to feel something different than the ordinary run of things here in Orgrimmar. It grew in her and grew and made her almost crazy. The drive to meet him overpowered her. To revive the moments from last night. To see if the magic between them was lasting or not.

The pull was very strong. And the more she had to endure, the more she was occupied or tasked with counseling and serving other members of the Horde, the more she held on to the wish of seeing Anduin again. It helped her maintain a grip on her authority, her patience and her willingness to go through the day although it was almost humiliating to feel herself getting this addicted to the young man. Hell, her Forsaken side was constantly shaking the head and telling her no, that she had survived other things. But the living part in her was craving for him like a Banshee craved for a body, wanted him like she wanted nothing else before. To possess him. To feel... yes, to feel.

As insane as it was.

Finally, she had a chance to catch up with Areiel. Speaking in Thalassian, a rare thing she did to send a sign of importance towards her dark ranger, she nevertheless used few words. “You have done as asked, Areiel?”

She earned an attentive look from her Ranger Captain who nodded. “Of course, my dark lady.”

Sylvanas, not very excited to be forced to use the language that was always and forever linked to her past ―a past that was gone and yet more present in her head, again ―preferred to make this short. “I trust you have not forgotten the procedure I outlined for what is to come.”

“No.” Areiel's answer was brief but bewildered.

“I also trust that, as we speak now, everything is in order.”

“It is,” Areiel answered as calmly as she could while walking beside the Warchief of the Horde out of Grommash Hold. “The campaign was a success the way I've seen it.”

Here, Sylvanas couldn't suppress a smirk, knowing that Areiel spoke of Anduin's arrival in Stormwind. “It was.”

“Shall I keep the object further under watch?”

“The object is still there where you left it?”

Areiel nodded.

“Then I have no quest for you at the moment," Sylvanas concluded.

The dark ranger bowed her head. “Thank you for letting me know, my dark lady.” She walked away.

Nathanos, who had indeed observed the two from a distance, hidden in the shadows, frowned, not being able to make sense of their exchange. He wondered why his queen had spoken in the elvish language. Another campaign? Where? He had to continue watching both the dark ranger and his queen, to get some answers. It seemed the whole affair wasn't done yet, and he had never been one to give up easily.

Sylvanas walked on, not back to Grommash Hold - to his amazement - but to the Orgrimmar Embassy. Nathanos shook his head. Perhaps he was overreacting? Yet, his gut told him his queen was up to something. But for now, he let her have some important talks there. This could take time, that he knew.

And that's why he completely missed that Sylvanas had left the Embassy only sometime later, walking to the Gates of Orgrimmar and looking for Michael Garrett, the forsaken flight master.

*

STORMWIND KEEP

The evening found Anduin in his private quarters, sitting in front of the fireplace on a comfortable chair with a glass of Stormwind Tawny. The open fire crackled from time to time and it had started to rain outside. Genn had consequently avoided his company for the rest of the day – the Worgen was already in Boralus, Anduin assumed, where he was to follow tomorrow morning to meet with Spymaster Shaw, High Commander Halford Wyrmbane and Jaina - so he had ordered his dinner set aside here, where he was alone.

He didn't mind tonight. He sorely needed time for himself to think things through. How the next events would change his life again. How he should prepare for what was to come. How slowly, but steady, things threatened to roll over him. And what else needed to be planned for the oncoming Battle of Dazar'alor, because there was going to be one. A battle.

Sylvanas crept into his thoughts as the fire crackled again. It wasn't easy for him, to give her the freedom to decide whether they would see each other again or not. But knowing her, knowing she was an independent woman who ―as he understood by most of her reactions so far ―shied away from being attached to anything besides her champion, the Forsaken, and to a certain extent, the Horde, he thought grimly, there was no choice for him at all. How was such a fierce warrior ever to be bound, when she did everything to keep herself free from chains? A lesson she had learned the hard way, he suspected, so he had no other choice but to make their next meeting dependent on her decision. Including him waiting, perhaps forever to see her in private? But there was no other... way. As hard as it was for him, and as unattainable as it might be, according to Valeera.

Her words still pained him. He buried his face in his hands.

Why did it have to be Sylvanas ―her, of all people ―to open his eyes to a different point of view? To address his curiosity? To let him discover his passionate side? To make him suddenly cross borders he had denied himself after watching her reaction at the Gathering in the Arathi Highlands? To wish to get close to a Forsaken, to such a dark person? All because of a battle of words? Yet, it was more than that. She had awakened him. He had been manipulated, sheltered, coddled and cloistered by like-minded people most of his life. And now that his shell had been broken by her, and the cruel reality of being a leader and making hard choices had been thrust unto him, she forced him to see what it meant to grow up.

She did remind him of his father, and nobody ever had allowed him to be himself like she had done.

He always returned to his former thoughts. Should he simply stop trying to juggle everything and accept what everyone seemed so bent on hammering into his head?  _No_ . Never give up hope, he admonished himself for the umpteenth time. Try as long as you can, even if everything was happening faster than he had expected. The way he longed for Sylvanas to be at his side told him he was sliding on a slippery slope if he didn't pay enough attention to his feelings. 

He closed his eyes when another image squeezed itself into his mind. Warm sand. Warm air. Her cold and curvy body upon him  ― Light, how he longed for her, especially after this day!  _No, Anduin,_ he told himself,  _don't continue down this road, don't..._

The fire crackled once more when suddenly two cold hands dived into the open collar of his white shirt from behind and caressed his bare skin underneath. First, he believed he was dreaming a very real dream until he heard her alluring, very real voice in his ears.

“You better make sure we are not disturbed.” 

Anduin was speechless for a moment before he dared to lean his head back only to stare into her smirking face. He was attacked simultaneously by surprise, desire, and joy. His heartbeat sped up. She was  _here_ ?

She came around him to slip on his lap and faced him. Anduin still wasn't able to say a word.

“Lost your tongue?” Sylvanas mocked him, but not unkind.

He just shook his head, trying to get a grip on his whirling emotions. He failed spectacularly. His voice cracked. “I missed you.”

“You did?” 

He just looked at her and swallowed. “You are wet, by the way.”

Sylvanas' mouth twitched. "It's raining in your precious town if you haven't noticed, little lion." She leaned forward. "Dry me off."

Just a touch away from him, glowing red eyes searched his blue eyes, pausing for a moment before she kissed him. Hungry, as if she was starving.

Anduin's arms circled around her, pulled her close, as close as he could. Feeling her. Having her close was all that counted. His tiredness was blown away, his senses on full alert. The longing for her so deeply rooted that it made him almost lose control.

Somewhere, in between the kisses, he had put away his port wine glass. He tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head and dried her off, then it fell to the floor while she touched his chest and glided her cold fingertips over his heated bare skin. All the shivers she sent down his spine deepened the longing.

“How come you hide such handsomeness behind such a bulky armor?” She asked him, attracted to what she felt under her hands.

He held his breath, smiling as he replied dryly: “No need to fish when you've found out how to pleasure me.”

She rolled her eyes, smirked and scratched lightly along his skin, knowing that he had repeated her former words. “You never took notice of the looks that follow you around?”

“No." He shook his head, watched her, simply happy that she was here, with him. Following his wish of fewer obstacles between their bodies, he opened the buckle of her quiver and put the impressive bow with it to the side. He did the same with her wet cloak, pulling the hood gently away from her long ears. Noticing that she watched him, his hand wandered down to her forearms, slowly unbuckling the arm guards. "But I do take notice of you being here, Sylvanas. Why?"

She smirked while observing him. “I might have had a bad day.”

That forced a laugh out of Anduin. “I would've never imagined. ― Did someone dare not do what you wanted?”

“You'd be surprised, little lion.” She teased him, yet, there was an edge to it.

“My day wasn't any way better.” He only remarked, continuing with her shoulder pauldrons. “May I?”

“It's been a long time that I was wanted to get out of armor this fast.” She mocked him lightly and moved alongside his groin, deliberately. 

Anduin's quiet groan was her answer. “I'm happy to help.”

When he took too much time fumbling with a metallic clasp before it finally gave way, she slid forward and started to kiss and bite along his jawline. Anduin stuttered. "Sylvanas..."

“Kiss me.”

“I―”

“Kiss me ―”

He did. Their lips met. His hot tongue slid into her cold mouth, seeking out her tongue with his own. She responded with a shared passion. Deepening the kiss. They were ―it seemed ―both starved for each other, starved for the sweet intimate connection of their intoxicating kisses. Sylvanas moved again, and Anduin's low moan of pleasure told her she had guessed his desires as well as her own. Light, she really knew how to turn him on.

And then, in the next moment, Anduin stood up with her, gathered her legs up. Sylvanas, positively surprised, wrapped them around his waist. He held her there for a long moment because the position felt too good, only to let his right hand wander around her back, resting there, the left hand gripping her thigh to keep her balanced. She clung to him while still kissing him wildly. He bathed for three steps in pure bliss until he kneeled in front of the hearth, taking her with him and laying her down on the soft carpet, still kissing all the while.

Light, she pulled him through the whole kaleidoscope of want, desire, and surrender. But there was one thing...

His voice was husky when he let go of her. “I'll be right back.”

He went around, locked the door, and very carefully checked on the windows before coming back to her with some cushions. While her hungry look had followed him everywhere, Sylvanas got rid of the rest of her armor.

“You try my patience dangerously again, little lion.”

“Do I?” 

Almost bold, he kneeled down to her and positioned the cushions on her left and right side. Slowly, he crawled over her, holding her eyes as he pressed her down, enjoying her body under his and kissed her again. She writhed against his mouth, moaning with pleasure and overcome by his devotion. Her whole world had been distilled down to him at this moment.

“Touch me where I hunger most for you, Anduin.” She put the oil in his hand and he took it, smiling, leaning on his elbows. 

“Here?” He teased her and took one of her cold fingers into his mouth, warming it and licking while he knew she watched him. He sucked gently.

Sylvanas stirred. The flames he awakened in her still amazed her. It was one of the many reasons she had come here: to find out if he could do it again. If he had the power. Hell, he had it. She was deeper in it than she had ever thought. Frantic want surged through her. Want for this young king whom she had just left early this morning.

“Or here?”

This time, Anduin did not hesitate. He slid lower and Sylvanas world nearly cracked apart as he touched her clit with his mouth and tongue. Purposefully. Her body arched wildly at the lancing pleasure and her hips bucked.  _All_ from yesterday was back. The burning feelings, their echo now in twofold intensity. She felt his tongue moving quickly across the cold, soft folds between her legs and Sylvanas trembled on the carpet, a shriek of ecstasy escaping her gritted teeth. 

A fire raged in her that threatened to scorch her mere existence. How was it possible? She was cold. She was undead. Most of the time, she shut down emotionally. The fire Anduin's persuasiveness ignited in her should reduce her to ashes, but instead, it was vibrant and set each fiber of her body in motion. If he continued like this, she felt she got bowled out fast of their first round. 

His tongue flicked across her once more, seeking out specifically her point of profound pleasure. She moaned again, this time with greater need, captivated with his boldness. Sylvanas had wanted to resist and had not imagined him to begin like this. There was no moment for her to pull the brake, to set the pace – as she had always done before.

Anduin responded, driven by his hunger to taste and consume her. He was astonished by his own need to shut out his doubts and his despair, to bathe in the feeling of making her want him, of eliciting her surrender. Of the wish for watching her come apart. Of having such power... and he realized that the sheer thought fueled him more, hard as he already was.

His tongue licked across her relentlessly. Sensing her growing need, however, he decided to slow his kisses, savoring her so as to bring her to a higher place of ache. Her hips rolled against his hungry lips.

Sylvanas was nearly shocked when his playfulness made her nipples erect. She couldn't stop trembling as the young king licked her intimately, using his tongue to massage her most sensitive spot. The force of the tingling sensations made her even more powerless to control herself. No longer was he waiting for her to recover from each peak of lust his touch brought. Intense waves of pleasure shattered through her body and she moaned his name as she was catapulted into another sexual climax she would have never guessed  _he_ had the means to get her to. 

Leaving her to ask herself exactly when she had been mistaken by his outward appearance. 

Anduin had watched her, stunned and still very much turned on.

The fire crackled again, but otherwise, the comfortable silence remained. Sylvanas' eyes were closed and the young king didn't want to disturb her steady state. One, he suspected, she was seldom in.

To not skid back into his brooding, Anduin fetched his glass of Stormwind Tawny and took a sip of the amber liquid before removing the rest of his garments, the desire for her inside of him still burning and looking forward to more.

“How does it taste?”

Her question made him look up from where he stood by the chair. Coming over to her, he offered the sitting Warchief the glass. Smiling.

“It has a nutty flavor, a touch of almonds and the basis is a spicy old wine. Delicious ―Like you.”

Red eyes met him as she took the glass and tried. The compliment shouldn't have gotten to her, but it did. "Hmmm."

“The next time you are here I'll have Undercity's 'Skull Shocker' ready for you.” He winked at her, completely forgetting what it meant and what his comment implied.

“Anduin―” Sylvanas started, but whatever she wanted to say got lost because he sealed her lips with a kiss. 

There was a seriousness, a heaviness about him she had never seen before. He looked straight at her before he spoke. “Just let me have this moment, Sylvanas.” He kneeled down to her. “There aren't many of them in my life.” 

He kissed her again, caught outright in the magic of the moment, of having her here in Stormwind Keep. In his private quarters, near the hearth, a place he loved dearly. And the magic, it jumped over to her when she felt the touch of his warm lips again, tender, soft, cautious.

He slid his hand down her body, cupping her hip and pulled her body toward him. Deepening their kiss, a renewed hunger was stirred by his own touch, and he moaned with desire. She responded by coming to sit on his lap again, pressing up against his erect length between them, making them both gasp. Yet, she too seemed to want more when she backed off a bit and extended her hand.

“Give me the oil.”

Anduin reached for the warm flask that was in front of the fireplace. He smiled again and placed it in her hand. “Impatient, Warchief?”

He just watched her once more, how she opened it and chafed the warm liquid in her skillful hands. The flowery and spicy smell evoked memories of yesterday but he had no time to dwell on it as she closed her cold and wet hand around his erection. He gasped again, the coolness a welcome contrast to his hot member. He trembled as she started to stroke his length up and down, spreading the oil, throwing him into an ocean of sensuous delight. He was overcome by yearning and lust for her.

Strings of desire anchored inside of him and it was almost too much to bear ―he took her hand away and started to move rhythmically against her, gliding across her cold folds like he did yesterday, lubricating her with his swollen tip. Sylvanas shuddered with excitement. Turned on by her arousal, Anduin groaned as he fought to control his own passion. To concentrate on her, his hand slid from her hip, took her wet hand in his and moved both between her legs. It felt new and intimate at the same time: his hand under hers, directing her the way he knew she liked.

Now it was Sylvanas turn to splutter. “You... are... bold, little lion.”

Anduin, his breathing ragged with self-imposed restraint, smiled and, without pause, without waiting, he led their hands away and thrust into her, taking her fully in one swift motion. She groaned as he filled her, then gave another loud groan as he pressed into her again, penetrating deeper. Sylvanas stilled for a moment, overcome by both the human warmth she didn't know that she was still starving for till she met Anduin and the burning inside of her, by the power of just feeling, and clung to his upper arms, her head against his chest. In this lucid moment, she asked herself wherefrom Anduin took the magnetism and the magic that was so hard for her to withstand. That caught her so unconditionally. She was at a loss.

The young king kissed her ears and neck and hair, feeling the depth of the moment just the same, waiting for her trembling to abate. Her reaction told him more than he could have ever asked for. Here, they were equal. The certainty of it had him craving for more, however, the position was too intense for him. He sank back on the soft carpet, leaving her upright on him.

“Take me, Sylvanas.” He pleaded, lifting her slightly to stimulate her to ride him, which she did, agonizing slowly, first, as if she needed to collect herself. 

She raised her long, elegant eyebrows. “You really like the bottom, little lion?”

His eyes were on her. “I like to watch you,” he admitted.

She smirked. “I remember that you do.”

Anduin let his head sink back on the carpet and enjoyed the tightness that enveloped his length. He drew a deep breath because the exciting friction and surrendering to her slow rhythm had him almost on the brink. Upon the appearance of her hands next to his head he realized that she had suddenly stopped. He struggled, torn apart between welcoming the short pause and the need in him for her to continue, to carry him into this bliss. Red eyes smoldered down on him when he looked up to her.

A soft moan escaped him. “Sylvanas, please...”

“I like you begging, Anduin. You want more?”

This was torture! He writhed. “By the Light, you know I yearn for you.” His need of her made him move again. “Please...,” he panted, “...just take me. I need you.”

He was painfully aroused. Perhaps he should tell her that he liked not only to watch her but that he was able to hold himself back longer. It was easier to wait for her, to recognize when she was close to the brink and  _then_ give in... but all in all, he really enjoyed her in action which allowed him to lay back. To not take responsibility for once, to not be forced permanently to make decisions he couldn't sleep over although he would love to. To give the leadership position out of his hands. He was doing it gladly. It heightened his sexual pleasure and it eased his mind. It was like leaving being a king on the doorstep of his bedroom, and just being a young man who enjoyed what life offered him. He wasn't judged or measured or forced to fulfill other's expectations. No, here it was only his and her expectation.

Sylvanas' mouth twitched, yet her own craving pushed her to glide up and down on his erection again.

“I want to watch _you_ come apart again," she hissed while she could feel him filling her, stretching her until he was buried inside her. 

The sensation of fullness was so much better. It made her moan with pleasure. Her hips began to move against his, her rhythmic motion quickened and Anduin, with increased need, pushed more deeply into her. They were both captured by their strong desires for each other. Sylvanas willingly complied with his wish, seeking to be filled and he took her hard ride, no longer able to subdue his own passion. 

Light, this deep passion - he never thought he could possess! - for her was killing him. This want! These feelings! Anduin couldn't stop. He didn't want to anymore. If he was to be hers in life and in death, so be it. Breathless, he felt his length harden even more and grow thicker. The edge close, so close, because they found the same rhythm.

Anduin came up to Sylvanas and kissed her with a fierce intensity to distract himself. He wanted to stay strong for her, yet it was hardly bearable to be in unison with her. He poured all his feelings for her into their kiss and captured her shriek of ecstasy in his mouth just at the moment she climaxed and stopped their restless pace. Tingling waves of pleasure rolled through her that he could feel in the way she was shaking hard and calling his name.

“Anduin―”

With a moan, he stiffened against her and let go, his throbbing length tightening convulsively, carried away by his intense orgasm. Like water cascaded from the top of a fountain, feelings full of relish and a tiny one of a resounding victory flowed down over him as he sank back on the soft carpet and she with him.

They lay in the afterglow's silence for some time, tightly wrapped around each other because both had not wanted to let go. The fire crackled from time to time, but the atmosphere was calm and comfortable once more.

Finally, Sylvanas shifted her weight and moved to his side, but she immediately missed his warmth. Since Anduin had his eyes closed, she gave herself time to admire him a bit and couldn't resist touching him. Her cold fingertips trailed lightly over his jawline and his throat to his chest. Hell, the young king was gorgeous to look at. The tousled blonde hair, rosy-cheeked from just before, but otherwise pale skinned in a way that slightly matched her own. His athletic, muscular body and everything else he offered made her still tremble inside. She enjoyed caressing his warm skin ―only to stop midway when she realized what she was doing.

For a moment, he had made her forget that she was the Banshee Queen. A Forsaken. The Warchief of the Horde. That she was undead. Yet, why did it feel so  _real_ to be with him? To feel  _alive_ when they made love?

Bright blue eyes watched her and his smile interrupted her train of thought.

“Are you alright?”

To hell with all of it, Sylvanas cursed inwardly.  _Am I?_ Her glowing red eyes rested on him.

“Sylvanas―” Anduin reached out and took her hand in his. There were other things he'd meant to say, but he couldn't form the words when she glowered down at him.

“You know I could crush you at any moment.” Her abrasive voice was back. “Why do you give me so much power over you?”

“Why are we having this conversation again?” 

Since silence was his only answer, Anduin sighed. “Sylvanas, I don't expect your full commitment. Besides, there are some things between us better left untouched at the moment.” He shook his head. “I just want to spend time with you. My time is finite.”

She watched him for a long time until a twitch ―one he knew so well ―tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Such wise words, little lion.”

He smiled one of his smiles that offered more than the usual. Yet she still didn't know what it was, but it was enough to become hungry for him again. To devour him, with all he granted her. In light of what just happened, perhaps it was time to gradually accept things as they were. “Anduin.”

He was still smiling. “No need to turn Azeroth upside down, dear Warchief. Just answer me the question why you came here.”

“I told you.”

“Why, Sylvanas?”

“I have no time for questions, boy-king.”

“Back to boy-king?”

“Back to Warchief?”

Anduin had to laugh and kissed her. “I really missed you,” he confessed. “Your company. You mocking me.” He took a deep breath and blushed. “You making love to me.”

“Give me all you have, Anduin.” She answered in her strangely echoing voice, pressing herself against him. 

In one go, the passion he always felt at her touch surged through his body. He was hard, again, and ready before he realized it. Light, the power she had over his emotions was almost terrifying if it wasn't for him knowing that it was the same for her. 

He grinned. “I didn't know that I was starving till I tasted you.”

She smirked back at his remark, but as always, his truthfulness touched her. And it made her react. “I'm here because of you, little lion,” she admitted of her own volition. “Honor it.”

“With pleasure, Sylvanas.” He gasped when she moved. Her confession heightened not only his sense of hope but also his feeling of happiness. Surrendered to his exuberant joy, he was suddenly aware of the oily liquid on his erection and then ―he had no more time to think as she dived directly into their coupling and clung to him when he filled her.

“By the Light, you are going to be the death of me!” He groaned, already high on emotions because she felt so good. It _all_ felt good.

Her laughter, not derisive but surprisingly joyful, as if she felt the same, made his heart beat faster. “Was I not expected to make you _undead_ , little lion?”

*

  
  



	14. lingering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N**  
> 
> This is for _Buntheridon_ , for being supportive and open for all questions. Europe rocks!  
> This is for _Lina_ , for having something to read along her way every day.  
> This is for _KaedeRavensdale_ , for collecting us all under your umbrella. No bother!  
> This is for _Nevijek_ , for being a Sylvanas fan and reminding me to stay true to her.  
> This is for _Ryuujin_ , for being patient and hopefully successful at that online thing.
> 
> At this point a very great thank you, _Windcage_ , for not giving up on me, and _Taedae_ , for accompanying me. (Loch Modan is also _Taedae's_ merit, because I was looking for a romantic place.)
> 
> Thank you, _Christie Golden_ , for borrowing some lines of your book “Before the Storm”.
> 
> \- We are back to the politics of “Tides of Vengeance” (8.1) and the next update won't take so long. A promise? A threat? LOL

STORMWIND KEEP, early morning

Anduin was just preparing to leave for Boralus after his short and hasty breakfast when Prophet Velen's visit was announced to him. This was an event he was really looking forward to, although Velen came at a bad time with Anduin being busy and sleep-deprived, even if otherwise vivid.

“Velen.” Anduin greeted him and smiled. “What a pleasant surprise you are here. How can I help you?”

A careful look met him and then, Velen, Leader of the Draenei, smiled. “I thought it would be the other way round, that _you_ wish for support. – I've heard of the recent plans.”

A shadow flew over Anduin's face, who didn't bother to hide his misery. “I don't want to fight, Velen, but the Alliance sees the necessity of the next assault.” He sighed. “Besides –” He didn't get to finish his sentence, as – to his great surprise – Tyrande Whisperwind showed up, accompanied by two of her Sentinels.

Anduin welcomed her with a smile, too. “Good morning, Tyrande.”

The beautiful night elf high priestess of the goddess Elune entered the War room, that was to the right of the central throne room, alongside her guardians and nodded only. Her brow was furrowed as she spoke in that rich, determined voice of hers.

“I came to speak to you about an assault on Darkshore and to retake it from the Horde. What are we waiting for?”

Anduin was immediately taken aback. She not only lacked her usual polite manner but also chose a sudden directness which gave him a sense of foreboding. Why did she come to him with such a suggestion _now_ , when other strategies were planned and at work?

He answered her cautious but warm. “I wish things were different, High Priestess. But with the war raging in both Arathi and Zandalar, an assault on Darkshore would stretch us too thin.”

Tyrande got agitated. “My people need action, not excuses! We will not languish in Stormwind while the Horde defiles our land!”

Anduin saw that it wasn't done with a simple sentence to calm the impressive night elf down. He was looking to find the right words for her. “I vow, we will recover Teldrassil before the war is over. But we face dwindling resources and rising casualties. If I can ask for your patience a while longer –”

Tyrande shook her head, resolute. “No. We will reclaim our home now.”

She turned around, clearly angry.

Anduin reached with his hand for her, using a pleading tone. “Tyrande...”

She only tilted her head to the side. “We shall have vengeance for the slain, and show Sylvanas that she has not won!” Proud, she walked straight forward and left Anduin and Velen behind.

“And if the Alliance will not aid us, we shall do so alone,” she shouted back over her shoulders.

Her night elf Sentinels followed her immediately, and Tyrande was out of the room before Anduin could answer her. Could he have held her back? No. Anduin had recognized the finality in her voice right away. Tyrande had already decided to jump into action soon even before she had visited him.

Anduin stood for a while frozen, afflicted with his sense of foreboding before he felt the draenei's hand on his shoulder and his calming assistance. “Anduin...”

“Thank you, Velen, for your support, but I have a meeting to attend to.” He got hold of himself and turned toward him. “I am looking forward to talking with you once I am back. Make yourself comfortable here, in the meantime.”

Not waiting for the draenei's answer, he walked out of Stormwind Keep and collected his Lion's guards along the way to the Wizard's Sanctum, a tower in the center of the Mage Quarter, where the portal's room was housed. He stepped through the one to Boralus, his head full of thoughts and downcast due to the new events. And he wasn't able to suppress the sudden feeling that he seemed to be punished for the happiness he had shared with Sylvanas throughout the night.

She had left him before dawn, and he had watched her go on her bat, a strange feeling in his gut. Then, he had been too exhausted to continue thinking about it. That would have to wait once he had managed the next step that was awaiting him. Besides, he wasn't fooling himself. There was a significant possibility that those two passionate nights would be the only ones he spent with her. He could only assume how she would react once she was told what happened in Zandalar. Yet – he tried not to forget that he had to separate what they did in private and what they did as the official High King of the Alliance and the Warchief of the Horde. The fact was, she slowly but steady tore his walls down.

*

BORALUS, KUL TIRAS

Arriving at the other side of the portal, at the Sanctum of the Sages, an old tidesage study not far from the Harbormaster's Office, Anduin was greeted by the mage Yvia Wavebound. Outside the house, the salty air and the bitter wind that hit him brought him back to reality and to where he was going now. With his Lion guard's in tow, he followed the way towards Proudmoore Keep, passing over one of the bridges and walking the ascending street to the most fortified location on the island, where he met Mathias Shaw who, knowing where to find Jaina, agreed to walk with him.

They entered the protected place around the family crypt of House Proudmoore, that was located just outside the Keep's southern face near the gardens, coming to a halt upon seeing Lady Katherine Proudmoore, Jaina and Tandred, seemingly having a private family conversation, the mother telling her children about Derek's – their brother – fate.

“When I think of those Horde savages seizing his body and hanging it on display...”

Anduin heard the words and paled, remembering very well his trip to Dazar'alor and his futile attempt to offer the captured Zandalari captain as an exchange for Derek Proudmoore's dead body. Shaw, standing next to him, kept silent.

Jaina tried to calm her mother down. “It was a ploy to provoke us. To goad us into making mistakes. We will not give them the satisfaction.”

Tandred's voice sounded gravelly. “Part of me wonders what our brother and father would make of all that Kul Tiras has been through. All that we've endured as a family.”

“I fear Derek would be disappointed by how I behaved. Especially toward you, Jaina,” Katherine admitted.

Jaina's brother made a broad gesture with his hands. “Father could be hard, but I do think he'd be happy to see us together again.”

Their mother smiled at him. “We've all made mistakes, but we'll weather this storm, dear ones. Together.”

“We're so glad you're home, Jaina,” Tandred smiled as well, “I believe that we –”

At this moment, Genn Greymane had hurried into Lord Admiral's Rest, and the three were suddenly aware of the audience they had.

Lady Katherine Proudmoore was the first to react and nodded towards their visitors. “Welcome King Wrynn, Master Shaw, and Genn. I take it you are here for matters concerning the Alliance?”

Shaw nodded back. “We are here to claim your daughter for a moment, Lady Katherine Proudmoore.”

“Don't take too long, gentlemen,” she said, “we are going to leave you alone to discuss things. Tandred?”

And then, mother and son walked away side by side, raising a smile out of Jaina who watched after them.

“The clock is ticking,” Mathias Shaw introduced the subject without further delay, “the bombs we planted earlier are still secure, but we need to push forward, or we'll lose our advantage.”

Jaina nodded. “I returned the Abyssal Scepter to the tidesages.”

“Halford is already on the details, and Genn, you...”

“Don't be so hasty, Master Shaw,” Anduin interrupted him, “I had just a visit from Tyrande before I came here, and I fear -”

Three pairs of eyes turned towards him.

“I fear,” Anduin continued, “she will take matters into her own hands to seek vengeance against the Horde.”

Silence followed his words.

“I asked for her patience because her vengeance will only lead to further conflicts, but I had the impression she's going to make a hasty decision. Therefore I have to return to Stormwind as soon as possible to prevent her from unplanned actions.”

“I'm coming with you,” Genn said determined and stepped at his side, “those are alarming news.”

“Your majesty,” Shaw began, “Lady Proudmoore, Halford and me will take care of the details for the planned assault, then. We can reassemble the day after tomorrow.”

“Of course, spymaster.” Anduin turned towards Jaina. “I'm sorry, Jaina, for leaving so soon but...”

Jaina put a hand on his shoulder. “We cannot let the world fall to darkness, Anduin. Hurry. We'll meet again.”

*

STORMWIND KEEP

Anduin had returned with Genn at his side, a feeling of guilt heavy in his heart at the awkward silence that accompanied them on their way back to Stormwind. That Genn had really decided to spend his days in Kul Tiras was somehow gnawing at the young king. Of course, the Worgen would've gone there, where he was needed and where he obviously liked to stay more right now than in Anduin's presence. Should he talk to him? Open up to him? The conflict in himself deepened.

Genn's reaction after the night in the Stockades was still present. His utter contempt and his absolute mistrust. He would probably get a heart attack when he told him about the affair he was having with Sylvanas. Always, Anduin had always been open and never lied. To keep silent ate at him. Yet – he couldn't let go of _her_. He wanted to see her again. He tried to hold on to his dream of having a chance to be with her, openly and officially, together. One day. If their affair lasted that long enough to turn into a real relationship.

The moment they entered the War room, so that Anduin could return some documents he had taken with him, a group of people rushed in behind them. Light, no, Anduin groaned inwardly, recognizing who they were, did this not have an end today? Before he knew it, Maiev Shadowsong's ranting swept over him.

“...and what of the countless dead? Of the families that will never be whole again?” Maiev, a night elf warden, was as agitated as Tyrande had been before.

“The kaldorei have been loyal to the Alliance. Are we now left to fend for ourselves?” Shandris Feathermoon, General of the Sentinel Army, joined in, standing on the right side of Maiev.

Anduin turned to Velen, who had come in, too, knowing he had witnessed Tyrande's visit. The Draenei stood quietly on the other side of the big table. “Velen, please share what happened with our friends earlier this morning.”

After watching Velen's projection of Tyrande's visit, Sira Moonwarden, another night elf warden who had positioned herself on the left side of Maiev Shadowsong, raised her voice. “Tyrande left for Darkshore ahead of our army. She intends to wrest it from the Horde herself.”

This was a nightmare! Tyrande had already taken action? Anduin took a deep breath. “I see.”

He turned to the Alliance's champion who had accompanied Genn and him. “Champion, our forces in Zuldazar have not yet begun their assault. With your aid, we may be able to succeed on both fronts.”

Maiev nodded. “Your aid is welcome, Champion. At least we can count on _you_.”

The side blow wasn't missed by Anduin, but he remained calm.

“Tyrande's ship was last seen near the Zoram Strand. We will start there,” Maiev added, and without further warning, she left with Shandris and Sira at her side.

Genn cleared his throat into the resulting silence. “Anduin, I need a word.”

The young king who knew what the Worgen had in mind, nodded. “Of course. You know you can always speak your mind.” Something he badly wished to be able to do as well.

“The night elves saved my people from our curse. They offered us refuge in Darnassus after our kingdom fell. – I cannot stand idle as they endure the same fate we did. Gilneas will fight by their side.”

Turning shortly to Anduin and nodding back, Genn went on to leave the room and joined the Greyguards that were waiting for him outside. “I don't mean to defy you. But if I didn't give the order, I think Mia would charge off to battle without me.”

Anduin just looked after him. “I understand, Genn. Light be with you.”

He stepped forward and rested his hands on the signature map table to steady himself when the big room was left in silence once again. What was he to do? He sighed and started to turn the recent events over in his mind. _More_ to consider. As if...

A warm hand landed on his shoulder. Velen hadn't left, something for which Anduin was very grateful.

“Anduin, let the Light guide you.”

If it were that easy, Anduin thought, but he nodded. “Thank you for staying with me, Velen. Right now, I have to deal with the paperwork. Is it alright for you to have dinner with me, old friend?”

“Of course, Anduin.”

*

ORGRIMMAR

Sylvanas had returned to Grommash Hold just in time, leaving the boy-king behind quite satisfied. Yet, she was forced to ban Anduin from her thoughts, being involved in Horde matters quickly which was not entirely to her liking but necessary. It was only around late afternoon that she started to wonder and notice that Nathanos hadn't shown up yet. Where had her champion gone to without her knowledge? To Zandalar? Somewhere else? It struck her that he had been quieter and less talkative lately. She frowned, intending to have a private conversation with him the next opportunity she was given. The sun began to lower itself on the horizon, and the shadows in Orgrimmar grew longer when quiet returned to the Hold, and it was time to make herself comfortable on the throne.

Needless to say, her mind wandered by itself to last night. To Anduin. And to all she had... felt. And wanted. To all she had found out, to the magic between them that had started in the Stockades and somehow still lasted. Each of his touches had set her aflame. Her undead being was enhanced since she had become intimate with him. And the young king succeeded admirably in making her long for him. For more. – No, she should stop those dangerous thoughts. Where would she end up? Going to him again? It was out of the question! Or not? Should she not take...

“There had been alarming news, my queen.”

Sylvanas looked up, almost glad that her champion interrupted her train of thought.

“Nathanos?”

He stepped in front of her throne.

“It seems Darkshore has become enveloped in perpetual night, my queen.”

Her questioning look focused on him. “Tell me.”

He shook his head. “I don't know the cause of this unnatural night. Darkshore has never been known for being bright and sunny, but something strange has happened there. A black moon hangs over everything.”

Sylvanas only raised her eyebrows, knowing that Darkshore had been involved in the Burning of Teldrassil, too.

“We must discover the source of this unnatural night. Make sure your investigation is thorough,” she said to him, frowning again.

Nathanos only bowed. “I will, my queen.”

Another idea formed in Sylvanas' head. “My champion –”

Nathanos stepped respectfully forward, cutting through her words. “These night elf ambushes have left us undermanned. We need reinforcements if we are to hold Darkshore.”

“You will get them.”

She leaped off the throne and stepped down to him, brushing his shoulder. Nathanos kept silent. The feeling that something was wrong intensified, but he ignored it for the moment.

“You will also be accompanied by two of my Val'kyr for there is one more asset to acquire. One who resisted... and failed. I want _her_ among us. You will retrieve the corpse of the night elf who was called Captain Delaryn Summermoon.”

She nodded towards him and passed him, only to turn around a moment later. “And Nathanos? Don't fail me in this one.”

The only answer was a frown from his side.

*

STORMWIND KEEP

Anduin's dinner with Velen had begun comfortably. They talked a lot about the Light, and the Draenei told him about Calia Menethil, how she slowly made progress under Faol's guidance how to be both undead and walk in the Light, and Anduin was relieved to hear that she did well and that the naaru Saa'ra still guided her. Anduin in return had reported Velen what the night elves' stay in Stormwind meant, and how things slowly changed in the human city, hiding, however, how he hoped the process would make his citizens more open to different races.

During the conversation, the young man was mostly glad to be able to listen to the kind and wise voice of the Prophet, being not that hungry. It was so easy to get relaxed around the old Draenei, and Anduin was aware of how weary he felt, trying to get a grip on his mind that was continually slipping to Sylvanas which was why he completely missed that Velen had stopped speaking. He only realized that he was being addressed when the old Draenei leaned forward and touched Anduin's arm.

“Anduin, something is bothering you, and it's _not_ the ongoing events. I don't want to pry, but would you share it with me?"

Anduin smiled to Velen as he looked up, but it was an exhausted smile. “I'm sorry, Velen. I hadn't had much sleep lately. There are too many things on my mind.”

The Draenei offered a forgiving look to the young king. “I can see it. That's why I asked.”

Anduin hesitated a moment before he continued. He knew Velen meant well, and the Prophet was perhaps the only one who wouldn't judge him immediately. Therefore, the young king had spoken even before he realized it.

“I may have done something... impulsive?”

A bit of despair overcame the young king again when he pushed away his dinner plate that was still half full. He leaned back and sighed deeply.

Velen felt Anduin's torment immediately. “It has nothing do to with your faith in the Light,” he concluded.

“No,” Anduin shook his head and raised a small smile, “it has not.”

“I know that you tried to stall for a bit,” Velen replied quietly. “To postpone the next battle,” he added, “but that's not the point here, either.”

Anduin crossed his arms and already regretted that he had started the matter. “Velen... I just don't know... if I am on the right path anymore.”

“You lost faith in yourself?”

“No.” Anduin shook his head. “But I think I may have lost,” he paused, looking for the best way to express himself, “the right perspective to carry on with the war. I feel... compromised? Which I wasn't before.”

Velen watched him thoroughly. “I won't ask further if you don't want me to, but you seem to be ringing for... a new solution. – You may have been influenced. How? Or by whom?"

Anduin kept his face under careful control, to not let the Draenei know how close he was to the truth.

“We had many discussions about people, old friend. About their beliefs. About chosen paths. And how people can change, if they want to change. Of how people view things differently. And whether there is a chance to convince them...”

Velen leaned forward, recognizing the message quickly behind the words. “ _Whom_ do you want to convince, Anduin?”

Anduin kept quiet for a moment. “I might have met someone from the other faction –,” he stopped and took a deep breath, “whom I try to convince to _trust_ me...”

Velen had first a tiny, warm smile on his face. “Where faith dwells, hope is never lost.” Then, a grin appeared on his face. “You try to infiltrate the Horde, Anduin?”

“No. By the Light, no.” He turned his face away and looked through the windows, the sun already vanishing behind the clouds. “I only try to find a way to end this mess, Velen. To make us all see that there are other problems, far bigger, at hand, we should stand united against. And quite frankly I feel like I am fighting a losing battle.” His voice trembled. “Everybody is caught up in their own revenge and in their own personal hatred that I will never have a chance to unite both the Horde and the Alliance.”

“I have spent too long depending on visions to guide me. It is time we forge our own fate. Part of that is finding new... ways, Anduin? – Not all who 'wander' are lost.”

“My path may differ in so many ways, Velen. And there's the danger that _I_ get lost.”

Now it was Velen's turn to shake his head. “You forget, Anduin, we are priests. It is important for us to be steady and calm within ourselves. Find it in yourself, and you will know what to do.”

Silence fell into the room, until Velen, who saw how exhausted the young man was, urged Anduin to go to his private quarters.

Anduin smiled, nodded and took leave. When he had finished undressing his full plate armor piece by piece, he allowed himself to dream a bit of Sylvanas while staring into the open fire of the hearth and smiling upon picturing her here, in front of it. How did she feel, right now? Back in Orgrimmar? Did she have another bad day? Did she think of the last evening as well? Of how close they had been? So close, that his imagination created electric impulses through his body – when a presence beside him made him look up.

*

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

As soon as she had seen Nathanos taking off for Darkshore, Sylvanas had summoned for Areiel, her Ranger Captain.

She was expecting the dark ranger in the Hold while pacing up and down. Did she make the right decision? Did it make sense to see him again? Behold, she had tried to suppress her craving for him, but it just didn't stop. She was hungry for another reward, like yesterday, knowing it all would come to and end, sooner rahter than later. Or was there a tiny flicker of hope...? No. Better to eradicate it. He was just a... distraction. Which was welcome at the moment.

But her treacherous mind didn't let go of the way they had fit together – it left her in a maximum alert. What he had made her feel – it was unimaginable, it was incomprehensible, and it was inconceivable. All together. And yet, it was the best thing that had happened to her in a while, an inner voice whispered. And it wouldn't last long. Therefore she better took hold of it while it continued.

“Dark Lady.” Areiel stood in front of her and waited for her directive.

“I want you to deliver a message.”

The Ranger Captain knew immediately of whom she was talking.

“Of course, my lady. When shall I go?”

“Now. Tell him –”

*

STORMWIND KEEP, in the evening

Areiel had been silent, so Anduin only heard her when she was already standing next to him. “What got you so quiet, my king?”

Anduin blushed immediately, returning from his desires. To downplay the embarrassing moment, he brushed through his hair and sighed when he answered her. “Everything, Areiel.”

She watched him for some time. A knowing smirk flew over her face. “Certainly it involves my Dark Lady, too?”

Anduin only smiled back but didn't want to dwell on this. “Is there something you would like to tell me, Areiel?”

The undead elf leaned forward and nodded. “She's a tough one, your spy.”

Anduin's smile vanished immediately. Thinking of Valeera's words from yesterday still triggered a hard battle in him. No, better not to dwell on this either. He took a deep breath. “Is this the moment where your king has to express his gratitude that both of you didn't leave his anteroom in chaos the other morning?”

The smirk on Areiel's face intensified. “Fear not, my king. I believe I convinced her that we are better off protecting the two of you than fighting each other, although I am not certain which option she really prefers.”

I know which option she prefers, Anduin thought, suddenly struck down by sadness. He had started to really like the Warchief's Captain Ranger for her openness and clear-sighted point of view, which told him that Areiel too had seen that Valeera wasn't as ready for acceptance as she was. His emotions otherwise kept well at bay, flared up. Yes, he was troubled and wounded at how Valeera had talked to him. Scolding him as if he was a little child. As if _she_ had to fulfill his father's role. As if _he_ had acted wrong. It made his heart bleed. No, he began falling into questioning himself again, it wouldn't do. Not now, tired as he was.

Areiel's next query proved that she was able to read his silence. “Valeera was here, once more?”

Anduin turned to the table and poured himself a glass of Stormwind's Tawny, offering one to Areiel who merely shook her head. He took a sip and kept quiet because he didn't know what to say. And wasn't it almost funny, the enemy being more appreciative of the situation than his own friend? His father's best friend. It was a bitter insight.

It didn't take long for the undead elf to understand Anduin's behavior. “She still can't or won't understand?”

Anduin just shook his head, his sadness almost visible. “Can you?”

Areiel's face stayed unmoved. “Who am _I_ to judge, my king?”

Yes, he groaned inwardly, at which point am I now when a forsaken expresses her understanding but a living blood elf cannot? Nevertheless, he was surprised by Areiel's next words.

“My point of view of looking at people was twisted the moment a night elf and a human _talked_ to me before they stepped back from murdering me – and that was because I attacked first – when you came along and brought me back from the darkness I was about to sink in. And whether you did it first and foremost for my Dark Lady isn't that important anymore. The fact remains that you did spare me the darkness although I could have been blamed for deserving it.”

Silence ensued.

“You might give her some time, my king, to understand.”

This remark pushed Anduin a bit away from his sadness. “Do you speak of my blood elf or of your Banshee Queen, Areiel?”

“Perhaps of both.” She retorted with another twitch of her mouth.

“Speaking of, why are you here in the first place?” He asked, then.

“Because I have a message for you, my king.”

“You have.”

The red eyes focused on him when she suddenly noticed by recognizing his sadness: “Valeera hurt you.”

Anduin looked away. “The message, please.”

“What did your spy say?”

“The message?”

The dark ranger hesitated. “My king, I...”

“There's nothing you can do,” Anduin rejected her friendly, “and I probably deserved it.”

The undead elf shook her head. “No, my king. You are the kindest human I ever met. Does your elf know what you did? What you tried to achieve without fighting?”

“Areiel,” the young king started but got interrupted.

“That you saved my life? That you let the Horde soldiers in Ar'gorok go? That you even tried to get Derek Proudmoore's body back in a peaceful way in Zandalar, not in a forceful one? And if the grumpy face of a Blightcaller hadn't had a personal grudge against you, you would've succeeded there? Especially if the cool Zandalari princess would've had the guts to deny him to touch you?”

“Stop,” Anduin said in a very gentle way and rose his hand, touched by Areiel's personal enthusiasm. How come she knew so much? “You don't need to say out loud... what I've done. And it doesn't matter anyway, Areiel, because some things are so deeply rooted in both factions they won't go away even if I will succeed one day in bringing peace to Azeroth. Yet, Valeera is neutral, and she spoke out of worry for me.”

The undead elf's clear look met him. Red eyes were glowing. "She isn't neutral when it comes to you. She thinks the Dark Lady will betray you, doesn't she?"

“I had enough of betrayal and fights for one day, Areiel,” the young king replied softly, “I need you to tell me what your Dark Lady said. Please.”

He meant it. He needed to know if he was already cut loose or if he was wanted... again. In the same way he wanted her.

“She wishes to see you again, my king.” The Ranger Captain smiled a bit and carried on. “Tomorrow evening? She assumed you would need this night's sleep to be fit.” The small smile turned to a grin when Anduin immediately flushed again.

It would be the evening before the Alliance probably started the Nazmir distraction and all that it entitled afterward. He couldn't sleep then, anyway. Perhaps it would be their last evening together after the Battle of Dazar'alor. He wanted to take it, knowing full well the hurt afterward would only deepen. It didn't matter. At least his private time was something he still had full control over.

“Where?" Was all he asked. A smile illuminated his face.

Areiel smirked. “That is for you to decide.”

*

ELWYNN FOREST, GOLDSHIRE

Although dead tired, Anduin hadn't slept well. Too many things weighed on his mind and all of them more than he wished them to. He had given into his need of sleep long after midnight, in the end, but it had been a fitful sleep. He worried about Genn in Darkshore. And about Tyrande, to a specific grade, knowing deep down that one should not seek vengeance but try to forgive. Watching Jaina's mother opening up to her children about Derek Proudmoore too deepened his guilt, that he had failed to retrieve the body from the Zandalari. And that it was only a question of days now that they would start an assault on Dazar'alor to drive a wedge between the proud trolls and the Horde. Doubts, if it was the right thing to do, haunted him again, the meeting with Rastakhan and Princess Talanji playing in front of his eyes. The fight with Nathanos was present, and from thinking of him to Sylvanas was only a snap. Of Areiel coming here and of Lady Windrunner asking him for another date – that could be their last one?

Yet, pushing it all aside, there was a happy note to this morning. After breakfast, Anduin saddled his horse Reverence and went for a quick and lively ride - which both enjoyed, rider and horse – to Goldshire. He entered the Lion's Pride Inn that was empty up to some guests and called for Innkeeper Farley who was very surprised to see the young king at this early hour.

“Your majesty!” Fredrik Farley said, “Your pardon – I wasn't –”

“Mr. Farley,” Anduin began, smiling, “we haven't seen each other in a while. I'm sorry for startling you, but it's a bit of a delicate matter, and I wanted to speak with you myself.”

“Whatever you want me to do, your majesty, at your service.”

“That's very kind of you, Mr. Farley,” Anduin replied, “but I just wanted to ask if you could make something possible for me.”

The Lion's Pride Innkeeper raised his eyebrows. “Of course, sir.”

"I wondered –,” the young king hesitated a bit, “if you were able to provide me with some bottles of the 'Undercity Skull Shocker' until tonight?”

Fredrik Farley gulped, his eyes big, and felt unable to answer immediately, still surprised about the young king's personal appearance and especially about his odd wish. Anduin waited patiently for his response.

“Your majesty,” he stuttered, “I... I don't know... I might be able to... ?”

Anduin smiled. “Is that a yes or no, Mr. Farley?”

“I'll do my best, your majesty.” The Innkeeper smiled back.

Now it was Anduin's turn to blush as he explained: “I would like to surprise someone, and you would do me a great favor in organizing at least one or two bottles.”

The young king didn't know why, but he wanted to repay the Innkeeper's trust and let him know – at least – what he intended the bottle to use for, because his brother had been a Forsaken. If only Anduin were able to tell the other human openly for _whom_ it was, and that he tried to follow a path that had begun, then, in the Arathi Highlands – he was reasonably sure Fredrik Farley wholeheartedly would have agreed that it was the right track to end this war.

Apart from this, his day took the usual route. Velen had secluded himself to pray. The young king's duties distracted him from his inner excitement, including a meeting with the Lords of the Noble Houses, petitions to sign, and official office hours for his citizens.

The look at the clock finally told him he would be late for organizing the logistics of his date tonight if he didn't hurry. Anduin had informed his servants that he was out for the evening and hastened to the Trade District. The Gryphon Roost was his objective, where he mounted his Snowy Gryphon and left, taking a detour via Goldshire, hoping Mr. Farley had been successful.

*

THELSAMAR, LOCH MODAN

Anduin hadn't had much time to think where to welcome Sylvanas properly because Areiel had waited for his decision. Knowing about Velen's stay in Stormwind and a high chance of Genn's or Shaw's return in the evening or in the night and definitely not wanting to answer questions, he chose another location for them to meet. Also aware that it could be the last of their special dates he wanted a romantic place. Hence the one that had come first to his mind was a place in Loch Modan called the 'Stoutlager Inn'. The inn, run by the dwarf Hearthstove, was a favorite place to spend some quality time, mostly with guildmates, which provided the inn with a lot of different races and faces, drinking and chatting. It also owned some nice bedrooms as Anduin had been told, with an open fire and a possibility to spend time in private. Light, had he ever thought that he was to carry off the Warchief of the Horde there? No.

He knew about the risk, but the chance of being detected among the dwarves who were steady and rarely ventured far away from their homes was lower than anywhere else. Anduin also knew that Sylvanas was a hunter and that she could be stealthy enough to find her way into the tavern and to where he was waiting for her.

Thelsamar was a dwarven town on the west side of Loch Modan, located north of Grizzlepaw Ridge and northeast of Stonesplinter Valley. A road ran just west of town, leading to the passes into Dun Morogh and the Wetlands. The gray and rugged mountains rose up on all sides of the loch, and the hills were lightly wooded with pine and birch. It was known for its temperate climate, its dangerous wildlife and the humidity which kept the land green.

The innkeeper of the Stoutlager Inn was quite surprised by the King of Stormwind arriving personally and asking very politely for a room telling him he wanted to meet an informant in secret here and was, therefore, pleading for the dwarf's discretion. Hearthstove, a bit of a grimly looking dwarf was a strong, hardheaded man like so many of his kind, not having much delight for politics but respect for the people that took on ruling so he promised the young king that he was not disturbed and provided with anything needed.

Anduin had pinned an arrow with red-blue feathers to the room's door where Sylvanas would find him and smiled upon the thought of seeing her again. The open fire created a warm atmosphere, so he undressed his heavy royal overcoat that was trimmed in gold. He allowed himself a good sip of the excellent and cold dwarven stout that stood on the table and made himself comfortable on the bed while waiting for her. Lying down in only his white silk shirt and his dark blue breeches, he started to wonder where exactly they stood on their scale of... dates. Or was it already what was called a relationship? With mutual trust? He just relaxed –

And drifted off, until a cold body, dressed in metal and leather, came to lie atop him and a voice he knew by heart spoke to him.

“And here I thought you couldn't wait for me to see me!”

Dozy, he opened his eyes and smiled at her, yawning. “It is _you_ that cost me my sleep.”

“Little old me?” She mocked him, twirling the arrow in her fingers. “Is this for me?”

“Aim wisely, I was told it shows fantastic flight characteristics.”

She smirked. “Due to the _red_ feathers, of course.”

He looked straight at her, a twitch at his mouth. “You decide.”

“How come we meet here?”

“Too many possible troublemakers at home right now.”

“Afraid to muzzle your dogs?”

He rolled his eyes. “I prefer some privacy and having you for myself.”

“Without explaining yourself.”

“As if you would like to do some explaining in case we were in Orgrimmar?” He challenged her, smiling again.

“I'm the Warchief.”

“I'm the High King.”

“But I don't need to explain myself. You, on the other hand, do.”

“Be that as it may... if I were to legitimate things with you, I would be forced to make this official, dear Sylvanas. Because that is what the High King does. Especially when he is a priest."

Silence followed his teasing, yet truthful words.

“This is not what I came for, dear High King.” She teased back, her voice less abrasive when he splayed his hands across her lower back until he reached her nice round ass and pressed her against his erection.

Instead of answering he kissed her. Slow, long, and sensual kisses, simply enjoying Sylvanas being here, with him, her body close to him. He rolled them onto the side, grinning. “I hope this is what you came for, dear Warchief.”

He undressed them both, not letting go of her, made her melt in his arms when he showered her with kisses over her whole body. He dipped his tongue into her collarbone and wandered down to her belly button. The sensation of warm wetness on her cold skin had Sylvanas shiver and bit back not only one but multiple moans. The desire he always touched her with, showing a possessiveness in almost worshiping her with every touch, amazed her to no end. And the traces of his wet brushes left her paper-thin skin prickling. There was power in the sensations he made her experience, she became almost dizzy. She was unable to set the tone because Anduin showed new tenderness and personal attentiveness she felt helpless against.

When he slid down her body, bit by bit, just the way she had done on their first time, teasing, moreover savoring, she quivered. How was getting high by hot skin on cold skin possible? Anduin's deep groan – who felt the same - affected her. She wanted to eat him up again if only for him letting her see and hear the feelings she was the reason for. At all times he held her close in one form or another. It triggered a tenfold increase of mixed emotions she had arranged with for a long time for not possessing them any longer, they shot through her, and she felt stunned again while he slid up to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.

Why did it feel so good? Why did _he_ have the means to make it feel so? Why did he turn her on and woke up the living side in her so that she could feel such emotions? Would she _ever_ get an answer?

And when he placed a hand between her legs, just resting there, she cried out, and she had a feeling it was not the Banshee Queen, not the Warchief of the Horde, not the Queen of the Forsaken, not the Dark Lady and certainly not the former Ranger-General of Silvermoon but her, her alone, Sylvanas Windrunner. She was shocked and baffled about it but found no time to dwell on it, the longing for him growing ever more stronger –

“Light, I yearn for you, Sylvanas, it's unrivaled,” Anduin's breath hitched when she shifted to close their distance and ground her hips against him, panting and about to take the initiative.

“Move, Anduin, hell...” She didn't get further when he sealed her mouth with another passionate, fierce kiss. One hand caressed her, and his other hand was moving, following purposefully the line that opened to her clit and between her folds, while she just realized how slick his hand was – oily - and then, she smelled it, the flowery and spicy scent of her oil. Hell, when had he...? Did she forget the flask the last time in Stormwind? She had completely lost track of anything he had done, caught in whatever he made her feel. Did he succeed in paralyzing her instincts?

Another deep moan with pleasure escaped her. No, her arousal level was too high. She took his hand from her away and gripped his erection with their hands both to jolt him into action and to oil it which forced another gasp for breath out of him. Opening her legs, she positioned him at her entrance and made his hot length bury inside of her in one go. Patience was not her style, not right now when she was kissed and touched in such a needy way she felt, too.

His human warmth engulfed her immediately, yet his _liveliness_ shattered her. The undead elf in her found it difficult once more to accept that it was him, this soft young king, the fairly accurate contrary of everything she was and everything she embodied – that it was him who made her feel and experience it. She was pushed through another mixture not only of impotent rage and mortal hatred but also of new insights to respect life itself if it elicited such emotions even in her. Was it a punishment for her, who had been called to have made life her enemy?

They both stopped for a moment, and the moment their gaze met, bright blue eyes took glowing red ones in and they stared deep into each other's eyes. Anduin saw that Sylvanas was teetering on the brink of an abyss not only because of her sexual arousal but also because of something else he couldn't define at the moment. Yet, he smiled. It was clear they both were struck with a sudden awareness of the other one, here. Heated feelings mingled and intensified.

Anduin, who had first wanted a bit more time but had seen the shift in her gaze, decided to speak to her. All of a sudden Garrim Thornsteel's words in Stromgarde came to him, 'If ya want to topple a wall, start with the foundation' – was he about to get through to her?

“Give us a moment,” he breathed.

“Let me... come,” Sylvanas choked frantically, “hell, Anduin...”

“I will. Trust me,” he whispered, the eyes still on her, holding her in a tight grip and not moving, “just tell me what it feels like for you.”

Sylvanas struggled, being close to that explosion that she so desperately wanted, this searing bliss he pulled her into that she had come slowly to admit as a part of her that hadn't obviously gone dead. A part of her that roared to come to life, that demanded satisfaction and to wish away all of her anger, her wrath, her hatred. A sensation, absent since the day she fell to Arthas. It was a _weakness_ of mortality yet one she felt increasingly getting addicted to. She gritted her teeth.

“Do not push me, Anduin. Tell me what _you_ feel.”

“Light, Sylvanas, you don't make it easy for me, do you?” He blurted, not losing eye contact. “I can tell you what I feel. I feel like you are burning me. I feel like barely holding on,” he groaned, “I feel like not wanting to let you go, and I feel a deep passion for you I never thought I could possess. And I feel like -,” another groan full of relish escaped him, “not being able to wait any longer. You make me lose my composure each time...”

Sylvanas smirked, yet his honest words had, as always, touched a chord in her she felt powerless against. She had immediately guessed right what Anduin was aiming for, but she couldn't withstand him, the feelings had her in a grip she didn't have the power to fight or to escape anymore. It shocked her to a certain extent that she was willing to let him hold the reins, that he made her give in, but Anduin's touch of life was worth it all. Even to place her trust in him here.

He inhaled sharply. “Now.”

“Anar'alah... Anduin,” she uttered when he started to thrust, agonizing slowly, savoring how tight she felt, the friction, having her surrounding his erection – and having her in his arms, this time. He was bursting, with how hard and thick she made him. His consciousness was enhanced, he was close to eruption, he could feel it with every movement. And he could feel the tension rising between them, liking the delay to give their moment more depth, to pull her tighter toward him, to make her realize that it was him, and only him, who did that to her.

Their eyes stayed locked as their bodies moved together and set a rhythm that was quickly lost as their climax approached.

Sylvanas, however, closed her eyes when her orgasm sent trails of fire through her. The fireworks that followed – due to Anduin's power to throw her into this maelstrom – were nothing like she had ever felt before. Hell, she even felt her inner body clenching around him. And when the moment was over, she was tormented by haunting questions.

How could she ever let go of the little lion? How could she imagine that another woman or another man would claim him and climb him like she did? Make him feel the same she did? It was unimaginable. Jealousy hit her hard because she would most likely be forced to watch it if she weren't to turn the young king into an undead. But to extinguish this young flame that made her feel alive? The ferocity of her own feelings pained her, and she winced.

Anduin beside her realized it, as empathetic as he was, coming down from the rush of his own orgasm. That she was tormented. That she was in trouble?

“Sylvanas.” The two arms that had loosened the grip pulled her closer to him. “Stay with me. Talk to me.”

Hell, she had forgotten how perceptive he was. Her forehead sank against his chest.

“I said don't push me.”

However, she let him hold her, allowing his warmth and his trust to seep through her. Solid as a rock, that's what he was. And he was the one free from demons. Wasn't it better to let him go? Better for them both?

“Don't lift me up to turn me down, Sylvanas,” he finally replied, tense.

“Anduin...”

Whatever she wanted to say, it got lost the moment he carried her to the stoveside bench, placing her in front of him. The glazed tiles were warm, and Anduin enjoyed the feeling of warmth on his back and under his buttocks as well as the coziness of the flickering firelight. He had been unable to endure the intensity of the previous situation any longer. Leaning the head against the wall, he had Sylvanas' back on his chest, and her head turned to the side toward the darker room. He just held her loosely in his arms and gave her the chance to keep her personal space, having sensed the crack in her armor earlier, and it was enough for the moment. Was he about to lose her? Had he gone a little too far? Light, how he desperately wished he would've been granted with more time...

Utterly taken by surprise, he noticed that she spoke to him.

“I will fall into darkness, boy-king. No point in painting it beautiful. I will be damned and tortured in my afterlife.”

A short moment of silence followed until Anduin was able to answer.

“But you're not there, yet, Sylvanas.” He said, very gentle. “That's what I'm trying to tell you over and over again. I'm here. So are you.”

Sylvanas slowly shook her head, her voice closer to the usual abrasiveness. “You forget, little lion, that's what makes it harder in the end.”

“No, it won't, Sylvanas,” Anduin whispered in her hair. “I firmly believe that in the end, it will carry you _through_ the darkness.”

She clenched her fists and turned rigid.

“What do you know of darkness? You are a light-wielder.”

Anduin spoke before he could stop himself. “I am. So tell me, what it is like. To walk in darkness?”

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps some other time -”

His voice became serious. “I want to hear from your own lips that you will tell me. What it means to fall into darkness.”

Sylvanas turned her whole body halfway around, forcing him to release her. Another sharp look met him, but her lips twitched, reminding him of their first conversation in the Arathi Highlands. “I asked you this already once. Did you not trust me to keep my word, then?”

He didn't want to let her get so easily off the hook. “Shall I answer the same: you had gone back on it before?”

She stood at once. “Then we have nothing more to say.”

Anduin held her back, catching her wrist. “I answered you that I regretted that. That perhaps another day we would meet again and speak of other things that could help both our peoples.”

“I told you then that I doubted that very much.”

“You still doubt it? – I've brought something for you.” Anduin stood up, the diplomat in him wanting to ease the situation, and went over to the table and put the bottle of the Undercity 'Skull Shocker' he had brought with him in her hand.

She stared at the green liquid in her hand. “Where... did you get this?”

“I asked one of Stormwind's innkeepers to organize it.”

“A drink for a forsaken?”

“The innkeeper's brother was one, too.”

A sharp look met him. “A forsaken? And he doesn't hate him?”

“No.” Anduin shook his head and offered her a warm smile. “He loved his brother and held him in high esteem. Especially when I told him what his brother had done. I believe you knew him, too. His name was Frandis Farley.”

Her look became piercing and there was a bit of an outrage in her voice. “Of course. I know all of their names! – I sent him to command the undead troops in Garrosh Hellscream's attack on Theramore Isle.”

Anduin was both surprised that she knew about Farley's brother and happy that his feeling had proven to be true. A vision of Farley's death had been conjured by the Vision of Time during Garrosh Hellscream's trial. He had believed Sylvanas' reactions to the images shown had spoken volumes of the regard she had had for her subordinates. And it seemed he had been right.

He nodded. “I told innkeeper Farley about it. But perhaps there comes a day when _you_ can tell him more about his brother.”

She tilted her head. “You won't grow out of the knight in the shining armor, will you?”

Anduin blushed but leered at her while catching her again in his arms. “Give the knight one of your rides and you...”

“I know you like the bottom, little lion.” She mocked him.

Anduin's blush deepened. “I like to watch you, Sylvanas. And I mean it.”

She pressed herself against him and kissed him, surprised about her own action, but then his honest words always provoked her to do the same. “I haven't forgotten how good the mingling taste of a 'Skull Shocker' with a beer is, Anduin.” And it was true. She had spent nights thinking about it. _Take it_ , an inner voice said, _take him_.

They clinked the bottle and the stein, and after drinking another sip they made love again, returning to the bed. This time, the urgency and the heat was missing, and they took their time. Kisses, so many kisses, from soft to sensual. And so many touches, from exploring to inviting. Anduin discovered her body anew, waking passion and desire but it was a tender fire, not a scorching one with the slowness he set. And to pay him back, she did the same while climbing him. Getting Anduin slowly close to the brink while watching him, begging her incoherently to push him over the edge with her. They both enjoyed this: provided with time, nobody and nothing to interrupt them, giving and receiving what was offered.

Later, in a dark hour, Sylvanas would blame the taste of beer and 'Skull Shocker' that mixed so well. That she had allowed Anduin to be tender to her. She was on the verge of a break, on the verge of believing him, of taking the risk and the fall. Of stepping into _his_ world.

*

STORMWIND KEEP/BORALUS, the next day

Another early morning and Anduin was tired again. _If I don't fix this in one way or another I will end up dead by sleep deprivation_ , he thought grimly, refreshing himself quickly and heading for a short breakfast to provide himself with a bit energy to survive the day. Shaw was already waiting for him and informed him of the news of the warfront on Darkshore, and Anduin was quite happy to hear that Genn was alive as well as Tyrande, and that they would meet again at the little setting Shaw had set up with Lady Jaina Proudmoore in the meantime.

The spymaster urged Anduin to hurry, and so they were stepping together through the portal to Boralus not long after the young king had finished his last bite.

Anduin wasn't sure if it had been such a good idea to meet in the open – once he got to know where the reunion would take place – but the garden within Proudmoore Keep was safe and protected and nothing short of beautiful. Besides, being in the fresh air helped him to stay awake and attentive.

Again, he was so close to saying something but forbade it himself. At least they fought in the first line against the Zandalari trolls, and perhaps they succeeded in driving a wedge between them and the Horde. Maybe it would lead Sylvanas talking to him on a political level... but he knew he deceived only himself. In due course, perhaps.

Anduin had been coming along to give the meeting an official touch. Beside Spymaster Mathias Shaw and him, there was also High Commander Halford Wyrmbane, leader of the 7th Legion, Lady Jaina Proudmoore, now official Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras, Genn Greymane, King of Gilneas and one of his advisors, Blademaster Telaamon, a Draenei, and the Alliance's champion whom he had ordered to stay put at Jaina's side.

After a nodding from Anduin, Shaw took the word, turning towards the Alliance's champion.

“Good, you're here. I'm assuming Halford has told you about our plan to attack Zuldazar. Let's go over the details. You'll be playing a key part in all of this. An assault on the city of Dazar'alor will destabilize the Horde's relations with the Zandalari. Our goal is to draw them north into Nazmir. We'll hit them with guerilla tactics and rile up the blood trolls.”

Anduin still had his doubts if this would work as they intended, but kept silent while Genn, eager, was the next to carry on.

“My people will form strike teams to provide support, and High Tinker Mekkatorque's engineers will assemble a few surprises for the Horde.”

Jaina nodded towards him. “The tidesages will use the Abyssal Scepter to conceal our true intentions beneath a thick layer of mist. Meanwhile, the fleet will invade Dazar'alor from the south.”

Shaw shook his head. “I won't lie. Not everyone will be coming back from this. We need the Horde to believe the attack is real. Sacrifices will be unavoidable... but if we are successful, we can bring this whole war to an end in a matter of weeks.”

Halford Wyrmbane turned towards the champion. “Now you know the gravity of the situation. We must begin.”

A silence ensued until Anduin stepped forward. “Never lose hope. Victory in the light.”

He nodded toward all and took leave while the assembly, being terminated, dispersed.


End file.
